Righting Fate, Changing Destiny
by Bunnylass
Summary: Paul Slater's threat to go back in time and change Jesse's death was very real. A threat Suze didn't listen to until it was too late. Now she is living an alternate time line that doesn't include a hot dead rancher, but a life devoid of living. But there are some things that can't be changed and a love that was written to be since the beginning of time it-self is one of them.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer:**_ The Mediator series belongs to Meg Cabot. I'm just twisting it up a bit.

_**Rating:**_ M - for safety.

_**Summary:**_ Slight AU. Multiple POV. Paul Slater's threat to go back in time and change Jesse's death was very real. A threat Suze didn't listen to until it was too late. Now she is living an alternate time line that doesn't include a hot dead rancher, but a life devoid of living. But there are some things that can't be changed and a love that was written to be before time itself is one of them.

_**A/N:**_ This is a story I have been itching to write for a very long time. Years even! So I'm glad to finally be able to write it and share it with you all. Please read and review, reassure me it was worth the wait. :) Love!

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_**'How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard?' - **_Winnie the Pooh

_**Righting Fate, Changing Destiny**_

_**Prologue**_

Ever since I can remember, my life hasn't been normal. I haven't had loads of friends, been asked to birthday parties, or been out on dates every weekend like my best friend Gina, back in New York. I haven't been popular or desired - until recently - nor had my personal land line ringing off the hook constantly like my poor, unfortunate mom wanted to have. I've always thought of myself as a freak, because honestly if you could see the dead on a daily basis too, you'd think the same of yourself. A teenage girl who hasn't been able to be a teenager because I've been too busy helping the undead go to wherever it is they're supposed to go.

So yeah, my life is far from normal.

Throw into the mix the fact I am insanely in love with the ghost who's been haunting my bedroom - or his if you want to get technical about it as he was here first - for the past century and a half and I'm not exactly winning any awards for the most sane girl in Carmel either. Not that anyone but my school principal and fellow Mediator Father Dominic, and another fellow Mediator who definitely has questionable intentions towards me, Paul Slater, _know_ that I'm in love with a ghost that is. Of course not, because no one but Father Dom and Paul can _see_ Jesse. My step brother Brad has heard him, but he'd never guess it was a ghost he was eavesdropping on.

Of course not having anyone see Jesse is a slight obstacle in our relationship we've been fighting to ignore the last few weeks, thanks to Paul Slater sticking his nose into our business and trying very damn hard to screw it all up for me because he has this insane idea that I'm supposed to be with him instead of Jesse. Yeah, right! I'm pretty sure Paul _isn't_ the man I'm supposed to love for all of time. Not that he likes hearing that I'm not as warm for his form as he is for mine, but whatever. My point is, everything would have, could have been fine if Paul wasn't such a lunatic and trying so hard to ruin my life and take away the closest thing to normal as I'm ever going to get.

Because Jesse loves me back!

Jesse de Silva, an eighteenth century rancher who was viciously strangled - at least I'm guessing he was strangled - in his sleep while on his way to call off his wedding to his cousin, back in 1850. Jesse who is imposingly tall with dark, crisp wavy hair and eyes so deep they look almost black; he's dangerous and sexy and handsome, with a seriously ripped body that would make any man jealous and any woman drool, and who somehow loves me back. Me, Suze Simon who has had all of two kisses in my seventeen years and never thought would ever find someone who would love me, crazy habit of speaking to the dead and all. Of course it helps that he's a ghost too, but still, he didn't have to fall in love with me too.

But then there's Paul Slater . . . who I'm pretty sure is the devils spawn.

Up until I moved to Carmel, California from Brooklyn, New York I thought I was the only Mediator, _ever_. But then I met Father Dom and suddenly I didn't feel quite so much like a freak or alone. Then, like fate was stepping in and giving me a hand, I met Jack Slater and found out he's a Mediator too! So imagine my surprise when I was casually walking through the Shadowland - what I call the creepy place between the living and the dead - trying not to show Jesse just how much I loved him and not to die because my time was running out after saving Jesse from being permanently exorcised - and along strolls Paul Slater; _another_ Mediator.

In the weeks since meeting Paul he's been trying to persuade me we're more than just Mediators, that we're what he calls Shifters. People who can shift - I know, real original name - between the worlds of the living and the dead without going through the mess of getting chicken blood for a voodoo spell, or having your catholic priest of a principal to exorcise you. We can also apparently transfer one soul from a body and put another soul in there. When you break that nifty little gift down, it's basically murder. But that's not all, he also has this crazy, so totally insane theory that we can go back in time too. That if I had something from that time period, like my dead fathers old t-shirt; I could go back and save his life. Yes, I did think about doing that but my dad nixed that idea pretty quickly.

Besides, if my dad hadn't died, I would never have moved to Carmel and met Jesse. How am I supposed to choose between my dad and the guy I love?

But it was this theory of going back in time, one that I thought was totally bogus and impossible that had me where I am now, standing in my bedroom numb with shock and fear as I watched Jesse shimmer from the room leaving me alone and completely terrified. I told you Paul's the devil's spawn right? Because he is! He's an insane guy who is down at the Basilica of my school right now, with something he brought that belonged to Jesse's murderer back in 1850, about to shift back in time so he can prevent Jesse from dying in the first place and effectively ripping him away from me because I will never have met him. I'll be floating through my life knowing that there was someone I was supposed to meet but never getting that chance.

"No, no . . ." I cried frantically, my hands shaking as I looked around my room trying to think of something. I would be too late to drive down to the Basilica and help Jesse stop Paul now. But I need to _do_ something! I need to stop Paul; I need to . . . "Go back in time." I murmured to myself, whipping around to stare at my pillow, remembering I have something of Jesse's too and I'm standing in a place that he'd been standing in, in 1850. Why didn't I think of this before?! Rushing around my bed I laughed frantically, because there's still a chance. There's still a chance for Jesse and me.

Determined, I grabbed my pillow off my bed and tossed it aside automatically reaching out to grasp the small painted portrait of Jesse I've been hiding there since Jack Slater gave it to me after he used it to exorcise Jesse with Maria, Jesse's ex-fiancée's help. But my hands only touched cool soft cotton, his portrait gone. "What - " I started, blankly staring at the bed sheet confused. "Where is it?!" I cried, reaching out to rip the last of my pillows off the bed along with the covers.

With my heart thumping hard enough in my chest to make it hurt I shook my head and looked at my empty bed, his portrait not where I kept it. My head was starting to spin, the pain in my chest getting worse with every second. I couldn't see straight my eyes were filling with tears so quickly. I felt like I was moving through a thick fog that was curling around my body dragging me down. I knew what was happening; it was my heart breaking into a billion pieces as the truth set in. Shaking, I moved my bedside table aside, clutching on to the hope that maybe it fell of the bed while I slept. But I couldn't see it, even through my tears. My hands were only brushing against soft carpet, not the small portrait.

Slowly pulling back I sat down hard and raised my shaking hands in front of my face, looking at them strangely. This is it; I'll never see Jesse again. I'll never know what it feels like to have his arms around me, to kiss his thin soft lips and watch his scar through his eyebrow turn white when he's angry at me. I'll never watch his long, strong tanned fingers move through his crisp dark hair when he's frustrated. I'll never see his smile showing off his straight white teeth when I do or say something that he finds so funny. I'll never hear him whisper, '_Querida_,' against my lips when he's running his hands over me, bringing me alive in a way nothing else can or will.

I'll never meet the man I'm supposed to love for all of time.

"Jesse . . ." I murmured, looking up. "Jesse! _Jesse I need you_!" I broke down on a sob, thinking as hard as I could to make him come to me. It's worked in the past right? It'll work now. It has to work, it just _has_ to. _Jesse, please, please come to me_!

"Susannah?" Jesse replied, suddenly miraculously appearing in front of me where I was kneeling on my floor, sobs wracking my body as I tried to suck in breaths. But if he's here, then maybe it wasn't too late? Maybe he got to Paul before he did anything, maybe he won't leave me and I can kill Paul once I've gotten control of myself again. Maybe . . . "Slater was gone when I got there, I looked all over for him but I couldn't see him. He could have left; he could have - _Querida_, don't cry." Jesse reached out for me, drawing me close to his chest where I soaked his old fashioned shirt instantly with my tears. He was too late, I_ know_ Paul, and I know he didn't leave. His threat was real, it's always been real I just didn't listen, I didn't take him seriously.

He's ruined my life. He's ruined our destiny. I just _know_ it.

I clutched Jesse's shirt in my fists, holding him to me as though that would keep him there with me. "He's going to do it, Jesse. He's going to take you from me. He's really going to do it . . . I can't lose you! Please, I can't lose you." I begged again and again while Jesse held me as close as I held him, his big strong hands stroking my hair soothingly. But I could feel him shaking beneath me as terrified as I am. And if Jesse is scared then I know there's no hope at all. Though he tried to tell me there was.

"We can still fix this, we'll find a way to - " he broke off suddenly, his whole body going tense beneath me.

Pulling away I looked up at him. "What's wrong?" I gasped, seeing his shocked and confused expression. "Jesse, what's happening?"

"I don't know," he murmured, looking down at me as he slowly reached out to cup one side of my face with his large cold hand. I leaned in to him, desperate to memorise his face, the way he feels against me, his eyes and the love he was looking back at me with. "_Querida_, I - " he began saying but then I realised why he stopped. He was fading away from me, his touch becoming less real.

"No! _NO_!" I cried, reaching out for him, my hands falling through him. _No, no, no_!

Jesse equally tried reaching out for me, but his movements were slow and sluggish. I could see the pain and horror in his eyes as he tried to say something but no words were coming. I wanted to hear him say he loved me, tell me he would find a way, tell me it was going to be OK. Something, I wanted to hear something! But there was nothing as just like that, as if he never existed, Jesse winked out of my life. Gone.

But, but there should have been more time. _I needed more time!_

The breath stopped in my chest, my hands falling through thin air where the man I love, the man I would do anything for, the man I am supposed to spend the rest of eternity with just disappeared. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, the pain that I had felt before when I thought there was a chance Paul was going to ruin my life was nothing,_ nothing_ compared to what I felt now. Dazed I glanced down at my chest, expecting to see blood pooling where my heart is supposed to be, because seriously, being shot point blank there would hurt less.

I knew there were warm tears moving down my ice cold cheeks as time seemed to suddenly start crawling to a stop. But I couldn't feel them, I couldn't _feel_ the carpet beneath my cheek because there was only pain, only pure, stabbing heartbreak as my head started to spin fast and faster, sickness roiling in my stomach. The edges of my vision started to blur and turn black as my body become as light as a feather. I could have been floating, the world crumbling and dying around me and I wouldn't flinch or move. The only thing that would have gotten me up would have been the voice of Jesse, the cool touch of him on me, the look of love in his eyes.

But there was nothing but the floor falling away from beneath me as the world turned dark and everything I had known before was no more. Winking out of being, my destiny re-written, my fate changed.

This is the end; I knew it as surely as I knew how to breathe.

The last thing I whispered before I drew my last wheezing breath was, "_Jesse_." And my world as I knew it ceased to exist.


	2. Chapter One

_**A/N:** _Hi! Thank you for taking an interest in this story, I'm excited to continue it. So I've given myself a birthday treat and decided to update. Review replies will be done as soon as possible and I hope you all enjoy, reviews are love! :) x

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**_"Childhood should be carefree, playing in the sun; not living a nightmare in the darkness of the soul."_ ** \- Dave Pelzer

_**Chapter One**_

Bolting awake in my frilly, princess canopy bed my chest heaved up and down as I fought to get a normal breath in. Blinking through the fog of my nightmare I placed a hand on my chest feeling my heart racing like crazy in my chest as I looked around my room. Sunlight was slowly peeking through my curtains and lighting up my big bay window seat. My chest was aching like it'd been pummelled on in my sleep. After months of waking from the same nightmare I thought I'd be used to it by now. It's always the same feeling; I can't breath, my heads spinning, and a name on my lips but I can never remember whose; my heart always racing and the pain there, as sharp as ever.

The pain of true and complete heartbreak.

My eyes drifted over to the window seat again and stayed there. Ever since the first day I walked in to my - then new - room, I've always been drawn to the seat. There was something familiar and comforting about it, other than the fact it offered the best view of the ocean and my school, the Junipero Serra Mission Academy's dome in the distance. It's the best room with the best view in the house. I'll never admit it to anyone, but sometimes I've woken up there on the seat curled up in a ball. I never sleep walked until I moved to Carmel, California. I'd put it down to the stress of moving across the country and away from the only life - albeit far from normal life - I've ever known. But I talk to the dead on a daily basis, so stress doesn't come easily to me.

Flopping back down on my bed with a whoosh of air puffing from my pillows I groaned when I glanced at the clock; too early to get up, but too late to go back to sleep. "Great way to start your junior year, Suze," I muttered to myself, throwing an arm across my eyes, willing the pain in my chest to go away.

I moved to Carmel just over six months ago and the nightmare has been recurring ever since and it's always the same one. Despair, disconnection, complete and utter heartbreak. I never remember details like why I'm so upset, but the emotion is always the same. Sometimes I wake up crying, totally inconsolable. Sometimes it's just hard to breath. But I always feel the same pain, as if the nightmare isn't a dream at all but something I'm trying to remember. That usually sets me up for the rest of the day and I go through it feeling like a zombie, confused and withdrawn from everything.

Of course the dead never get the memo that I'm not firing on all cylinders and still bug the hell out of me on those days too.

But today is going to be different, because I'm going to _make_ it different. I'm starting the Mission a Junior, with a whole new designer wardrobe that's going to make even Kelly Prescott and Debbie Mancuso jealous - all brought with my hard earned cash over the summer - and a super hot new boyfriend to drive me there. Yep, this years going to be my year, I can just _feel_ it! I've waited long enough for my life to finally hit some kind of normal frequency and this past summer was finally the beginning of it! So I still get bugged by ghosts and I still have three step brothers I have to live with and a new step-dad, but I have a boyfriend! That alone is enough to make the rest bearable.

Oh and the fact my super hot boyfriend is a Mediator and can see ghosts too? Yeah, _so_ makes it even better!

Grinning I tossed my covers aside ignoring the ache in my chest and pushing the nightmare to the back of my mind, I decided to face this new, great start to my new near normal life and make sure I rock up to school in my boyfriends sweet convertible looking smoking hot. It's a hard life, right? I resisted the temptation to open my bedroom window, having been deceived by the glorious heat and sunshine of Carmel, I found out a week or so into living here that the mornings are bitterly cold and my room turns into an igloo if I leave my bedroom window open all night. That fog is no joke, thank God it burns off quickly or my new luscious hair thanks to the ocean air would be a frizzy mess.

Padding into my en-suite bathroom my mom and step-dad Andy were kind enough to install for me as I'm the only girl in the house, I turned the shower on and let the bathroom heat up while I brushed my teeth and examined my face for any over night blemishes. I know from experience of waking from the nightmare that my face can be splotchy in places from breathing so hard. Luckily today my greens eyes were bright and lacking the normal redness and blood-shot look. Good mood still in place I climbed into my shower and let the water pour over my head and down my back.

I guess I shouldn't really say my life has finally started to get semi-normal this summer. Truthfully I guess it started to pick up as soon as I moved to Carmel. Sure, the dead still follow me around, but to be so close to the ocean is definitely an improvement. That and finding out the principal of my school has got the same curse as me in seeing the dead were like the biggest revelation of my life. OK, it _is_ the biggest revelation, nothing else up until then had exactly surprised me and left me speechless quite like noticing a dead teenage girl talking to him the way she did as he walked me to my locker that first day of starting the Mission Academy.

Ever since, Father Dom has been like a frustrated mentor to me, trying to teach me a way of being a Mediator that doesn't involve my fists. Hey, my methods have worked perfectly fine for me for the last six years! It's not my fault ghosts, or Heather the teenage girl haunting my school, can't take the hint they're dead and can't make others die too just because they're lonely or in her case, regretted killing herself.

Needless to say Father Dom and I are still trying to find a compromise on how to deal with the dead.

I guess ghosts on the West Coast are just as volatile as they are back East, because Heather tried to do a great job of making me become an exclusive member of the dead club. She even nearly destroyed the school she was so mad. It was by sheer dumb luck my oldest step-brother - who is convinced I'm part of a gang - caught me sneaking out the night I exorcised Heather and found me under all the rubble in the school. He watches me pretty closely even now. She's not the only bad run in with ghosts I've had since moving to sunny California, there were the RLS Angels who did a great job of landing me in hospital with broken ribs, again, thanks to the intervention of my best friend Gina not listening to what I said and calling the police anyway who thought the guy who they suspected killed the RLS Angels, was also trying to kill me.

As if I'd let a guy do that kind of damage to me. If I wasn't so badly outnumbered I would've been fine. Besides, it all worked out fine in the end, the 'Angels' are in a better place - wherever that is - now and my ribs are healed.

Reaching a hand to the ribs they'd broke I ran my hand over them, half expecting to feel the pain still. But I'd been pretty numb to it, even then. I guess I just don't feel pain like most people. Sure, I've cried because I've stubbed my toe on something. But punches, cuts, broken bones - I guess I'm just numb to that kind of thing. It's one of the reasons Father Dom worries about me so much. He says I have a death wish - how he's never come across someone with such a 'reckless abandon for danger'. Sometimes I catch him staring at me with so much sadness that I don't know what to say. Me! Suze Simon who's rarely speechless.

He's trying to counsel me on why I just barrel into danger without thinking and I don't really have an answer for him. The truth is I don't really feel anything. _At all_. I'm content, but I've never felt true, pure happiness. The kind that makes you cry and feel all warm and fuzzy, and like nothing could take that happiness away from you. I've been sad, but not the deep, crying for days kind of sad. I smile, but I rarely laugh. I get annoyed, but it just as rarely turns to full on consuming anger. I'm just . . . _numb_, to everything.

Until my nightmares started. That's the only time I've ever really felt pure, heart-wrenching agony and sadness. The only time I've ever cried so hard I almost make myself sick. The rest of the time, it's like I'm a little . . . dead inside.

Shaking off the thought an image of my boyfriend popped into my mind and I smiled. That was something to be happy about and I am! Other than Tad Beaumont, my new man is the only guy I've ever kissed. It never went anywhere with Tad - considering I gave him poison oak and his uncle tried to kill us both because he was a serial killer and I'd stumbled on to that thanks to his victims - so to be asked out by the older brother of the kid I was babysitting at the Pepple Beach Hotel and Resort, I was pretty shocked! It's not as if guys were lining up down the block to ask me out when I lived in Brooklyn, so I never thought guys would pay me much attention being in Carmel either.

But Paul Slater had and I was starting to know how it felt to be a little bit normal for a change.

Things had started looking up just being in Carmel, having already got more friends in a day than I had the whole sixteen years I lived back East, finding another Mediator, becoming the class Vice President - whether I wanted it or not - and finally kissing a boy; Paul asking me out felt almost too good to be true . . . Almost. I said yes of course, I'm not totally dead inside; I am still a hot blooded woman. It was over a Latte at the Coffee Clutch that I found out not only was Paul's little brother Jack a Mediator too, but so was Paul. I know I looked so attractive at that moment with my mouth hanging open gaping at him like a goldfish. But I was shocked! I had no idea I had the kind of luck to attract not only a super hot guy, but one with the same curse as me too!

OK admittedly I was angry at him at first. Who just comes out with that, weeks after meeting someone over _coffee_? I'd been struggling with making excuses for my weird habits while babysitting his little brother for weeks and then he just casually comes out with already knowing about me. Once I got past the shock I wanted to slug his handsome face. But I'm a cool headed girl - most of the time - and I sat back and took it in from a different perspective.

After all, only good can come from knowing someone else can see the dead too. And it can only get better if you're dating that person too.

Did I also mention his parents are stupidly rich? Yeah, they so are. It's because of them I've managed to totally kit my fall/winter wardrobe with designers. Not that money's everything, but it helps when your new boyfriend wants to take you out to gorgeous - and expensive - restaurants on dates.

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping myself and hair in towels, I moved back to my bedroom and started putting an outfit together.

I thought dating Paul over the summer would be just that, a summer fling. But the week before him and his family were supposed to leave to go back to Seattle he told me he'd asked his parents if he could move schools and stay in Carmel, because apparently - another thing he never bothered to tell me about - his grandfather lives here and he could crash with him. I guess his parents never had a problem with it and his transcripts are impressive enough - probably with a hefty donation - the Mission Academy accepted him without much fuss. So our summer fling is now a full on, not that I'm complaining - relationship!

Sitting down at my dressing table I got to work blow-drying my hair and just letting it fall in soft, shiny chestnut waves past my shoulders. I've been toying with the idea of cutting more off, but every-time I've mentioned it to Paul he tells me he likes it long and not to ruin it. Brushing that off I got to work on subtly making my face up, my summer glow meaning I didn't have to use much. I'm no model, but I'm no hag either. I know just how to accentuate my best features and when I got dressed and checked myself out in my full length mirror I smiled, happy with the result.

Walking to my door something out the corner of my eye caught my attention and spun me back to looking at the window seat. But when I looked I didn't see anything. How messed up that the possibility of seeing something that isn't there gives me more butterflies than my boyfriends touch does. I guess my nightmare screwed with me more than normal so I tried to shake off the remnants of the dream before it brought me back down to how I felt when I first woke up. Spinning back for the door I all but ran out of the room and down the stairs, trying to leave the vague dream memories behind.

"Morning Suze," Andy smiled cheerfully at me when I strolled into the kitchen, finding Brad - or who I like to call Dopey, my second step-brother and a fellow starting Junior at the Mission Academy - sitting at the table shovelling cereal in to his mouth in a way that made sure I wouldn't be eating anything until at least lunch. "All set for your first day back?" I grabbed a red apple out of the fruit bowl and shoved it into my new designer bag, nodding at Doc - or David as everyone else calls him, my youngest step brother - as he walked into the kitchen, his red curly hair making him look even more boyish then he already is. He's my favorite out of my three step-brothers.

Shrugging, I smoothed another hand through my hair one last time hearing Paul's car beep for me; saved by the horn. "Pretty much, that's Paul, I'll see you tonight." I replied quickly, grabbing my pack up off the counter and moving out of the kitchen quickly so I didn't have to stick around for the third degree from Andy about Paul. I've already had 'the talk' from him and my mom about curfews etc now I have a boyfriend. I would've thought my mom would be over the moon her anti-social daughter was finally getting some male attention. But for some reason they weren't taking to Paul like I thought they would. So I try to avoid any mention of my boyfriend to them if I can help it.

Makes my life less complicated than it already is.

Shoving my lunch into my bag with my apple, I grinned down at Paul from where I stood on the porch seeing his curly blond hair sitting behind the wheel of his hot convertible, his dark sunglasses perched half way down his nose as he stared up at me. "Hey beautiful." he called, spurring me into moving. I've been in his car loads of times; I know I look good in it. Slipping my sunglasses on, I tossed my bag to the floor and slid in next to him loving the warm soft leather beneath my bare legs. Grinning at me, Paul leaned over and slipped a hand around the back of my head and pulled me in for a kiss that was soft but possessive.

When he first used to kiss me my heart used to do a little tap dance in my chest and warmth would flood through me. But I don't get that same reaction anymore; it's more a pleasant quiet hum as I kiss him back. It's nice, he's a great kisser, better than Tad even and he's pretty damn good. I guess it's just the same as my reaction to everything else - numb. Paul doesn't seem to notice so I don't draw attention to it.

Letting me go, our breathing a little labored, Paul reached down and squeezed my bare knee. "Hey," He said again, sitting back in his seat.

Laughing, I adjusted my skirt and sat back. "Hey yourself."

"As much as I want to sit here and kiss you some more, I'm not going to earn any brownie points with your step-dad scowling at me from the window," he wryly smiled, putting his car into reverse and rolling down my gravelled drive-way. I glanced up not seeing anyone in the windows Paul had been talking about. "He was there," he said, turning the car onto the road. "Or with the priest who I'm sure wants to talk to you about some other ghost's sob story that's come up since you last saw him." Paul continued, his tone showing exactly what he thought of Father Dom's attitude towards being a Mediator and ghosts.

Pressing my lips together I stared out the window trying to ignore the flare of defensiveness I felt towards Father Dom. I guess I forgot to mention that Father D and Paul don't exactly see eye to eye with each other either. Sure Paul respects him, but he thinks his attitude to ghosts and how to deal with them - and mine for that matter - is totally bogus and that we've been going about it all wrong all this time. Because according to Paul - _another_ thing he neglected to mention straight away - we're not even called Mediators. At least, I'm not anyway. Apparently we're 'Shifters' with these nifty powers way better than just being able to see, touch and talk to the dead. As if I really want anymore hassle than I already have with seeing ghosts.

Paul's been trying to get me to listen to what he has to say about Shifters and these powers for weeks, ever since he dropped that bomb on me one night out at his huge, sleek, modern and cold house his grandfather owns. I'm not so sure I'm ready to hear it yet. I don't know if that's because the moment he said that word I almost had my first panic attack, or because I'm still pissed it feels like I've been strung along with half truths from him from the beginning, in stead of being given the whole truth. Either way he's backed off for now but I know he'll bring it up again soon and I guess eventually I'll listen to what he has to say; a little of me is curious and I want to know more. But for now I just want to be a semi-normal Junior, for a couple of days at least.

Is that too much to ask for?

Once Paul found a parking spot and turned his throaty car off, he reached out and took my hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss my knuckles. I willed myself to feel something as his full warm lips brushed over my skin while I looked at him, gazing over his handsome looks. But I couldn't, I didn't even get a flutter in my stomach. Trying not to let the disappointment show, I got out of his car and took a deep breath.

"This is my year," I whispered to myself again, straightening my skirt and taking a deep breath as I looked up at the Mission Academy and felt Pauls arm wrap around my waist, pulling me up against his side. "This is it."


	3. Chapter Two

_**A/N: **_Hi, sorry for the long wait for an update! I hope this was worth the wait. I promise this won't be abandoned, I just don't have a lot of free time. I'm sure a few of you are going to have lots of questions after this and I look forward to trying to answer them. But please bear with me, this idea is purely from my crazy imagination and a few beliefs of my own. Anyway, read on and please no rotten tomatoes at me, thanks! Love! :)

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_**'Tears shed for another person are not a sign of weakness. **__**They are a sign of a pure heart.'**_ Jose N. Harris

**_Chapter Two_**

"Can I get you anything else, Jesse?"

The sound of my name broke me out of my reverie of me staring into space as I looked up and straight into the eyes of the waitress across from me; frowning in confusion. "I'm sorry, what?" I asked, a little embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming in such a public place. It's only the Coffee Clutch, a local hang out for most students, high school or college, so no doubt there are a few people daydreaming over their lattes. But my concentration is usually a lot sharper, more focused. With the exception of recently apparently, when my mind has been wandering to far off places and other people have had to rouse me again.

Smiling and leaning forward to rest her arms on the counter opposite me, the waitresses' flowery perfume overwhelmed me and made me stand up a little straighter to get away from it without seeming rude. Why do some women feel the need to saturate themselves in those kinds of scents? The waitresses' eyes became hooded; a keen look of interest plain to see. "I said can I get you anything else..._Jesse_."

I tried not to wince at the purr of my name I dug into my pocket for my money as fast as possible. "No thank you, that's it." I handed over the notes, trying to ignore the deliberate brush of her fingers over mine as she took my money from my hand. Nodding once in thanks I grabbed my hot coffee to go and the paper bag holding my muffin, turning away as fast as possible, the exit and sunshine outside beckoning me. I'm sure the pretty waitress is a nice girl, but with my lack of focus already causing me a problem, the possibility of dating isn't something I need either. My last year of college is the most important one yet, I can't afford to have anything get in the way of that.

To get in the way of my dreams of attending medical school in New York, that's the big picture. Something I have to remind myself of every day.

Once I was outside I took a deep breath of the fresh crisp air, the fog that covers the land all but gone, burnt away by the morning sunshine. Maybe the lack of desire to date was more than just my drive for finishing college and moving out of Carmel. What it could be, I don't know. But the feeling that there is more to it than the former has been nagging at me for a while. I guess my baby sisters prodding hasn't helped me out either. She's been filling my head with unknowns and nonsense.

"Damn interfering sibling," I muttered as I climbed into my car and placed the coffee in its holder. Opening the paper bag I lifted it to my nose, taking a deep breath of the cinnamon and ginger scent, making my stomach rumble. Another thing my lack of focus had done, made me forget to eat breakfast, hence the muffin on the run. As I opened my eyes to look down at the muffin though a piece of neatly folded paper caught my attention. Frowning I reached in and took it out, a name and a number quickly scrawled on it grabbing my attention. "No thank you." I winced, screwing the paper up into a ball and dropping it back into the bag.

Deciding I needed the chance to clear my head I chose to drive the long way to work at the Historical Society building. One thing I will miss dearly about Carmel is the ocean. The chances to grab my surfboard and hit some waves, letting the physical wash away the metaphorical stress weighing me down. I will miss the sun warmed sand between my toes as I step from the water and the intense heat of our local star on my back. I'll miss watching it set on the horizon and the quiet that falls over the land with it. In those short moments when it feels like time is standing still. I'll miss the independence and freedom that living in Carmel offers me. But what I will gain, I have told myself again and again, is far more rewarding. And once I have received my doctorate and gotten all the titles I need, I will come back to California and stay here for the rest of my life.

Stay where my heart belongs.

The Historical Society approached sooner than I wanted it too and I reluctantly pulled into a free parking space in the staff car park. Being the end of the summer break the tourists visiting us has dwindled and the school terms have started up leaving the car park mostly empty. Pushing my way into the building I took in the sterile smell of the place. The chemicals they use to keep precious and valuable artefacts from being damaged lingering in the air heavier today than normal.

Mrs Lampert, Dr Clive Clemmings' receptionist sat at her desk, filing her nails as I approached. She lifted her grey curled hair to smile up at me when I stopped before her, kind eyes gleaming back at me with intelligence and life. The complete opposite to Dr Clemmings' detached and dull expression. She had quickly taken me under her wing when I first started working at the Historical Society and though I'm reluctant to admit it, it felt nice to have a motherly person fussing around me again, dulling the ache of missing home and my equally doting mother waiting there.

"Good morning, Mrs Lampert," I greeted her warmly, smiling back without a second thought.

"How many times have I got to tell you to call me, Mary," she lightly admonished me, not for the first time since working with her boss. I wanted to call her Mary, but a good upbringing always had me falling to her married name instead. "Here, I brought you this in." She reached down beside her and lifted a Tupperware container and passed it to me. My eyes lit up as I took it and peered through the tub to see the spaghetti and meatballs inside. When I looked back to her questioningly she shrugged easily, resuming her nail filing. "You're looking a little thin dear, and spaghetti and meatballs are my speciality."

I couldn't help it; I cocked an eyebrow at her. Thin is not something I have started to become and she knew it too.

I am also fully aware that without any children or grandchildren to spoil, Mrs Lampert has thoroughly enjoyed placing that on me to make up for the years of loneliness not having a family has brought to her. Not that she would ever admit as such to me, but someone very close to her has shed that light for me. Who am I to ask those affections to be passed along to someone less willing? So I tucked the Tupperware tub close to me and grinned at her.

"I promise it won't be wasted." I told her gratefully, pleased to see a happy flush rise in her cheeks.

Dismissed I strolled past her desk and along to my little room tucked in the back, away from public view and next to Dr Clive Clemmings' office. One of the reasons I chose to go to college in Carmel was because of the job offered to me here. Being a de Silva, that name has a lot of sway around here. My family stretches as far back as the 1800's settling in Salinas County where the family ranch is still being lived in and worked from. Having its foot so firmly stuck in the history of the area my family has donated a few heirlooms to the Historical Society over the years and as such I was able to get a job here touring, cataloguing and giving speeches about what life was like back in the 1800's.

After all, they have my great, great, great grandfathers' letters to his then fiancée showcased in their museum. The same person I was named after, except by his nickname and not birth name. Thankfully my parents decided Hector was too old fashioned for this day and age, something I am willingly agreeable on. Growing up many people has commented on my striking similarity to him and over the years, whether I realised it or not, he has fascinated me too. I have always found myself drawn to him in some way, curious to know more about him. Coming to work at the Historical Society has felt like a way of connecting those dots. The job isn't terrible either, if not a little slow and boring on some days.

But then, I do have other things to occupy my time too.

"Ah, Jesse you're here. Good," Dr Clive Clemmings, PhD strode into my office without knocking, his thick coke bottle glasses slipping down his nose as he held a sheaf of papers in his hand, only glancing at me for a second as he absentmindedly thumbed through his stack. There were no pleasantries or small talk from Clive, just straight to business. Sometimes I wonder if he has a foot permanently stuck in the past. "I have a school trip coming in on Friday for a tour and will need your help with the talk. Besides, they seem to listen to you more than they do me." he remarked, scratching his head confused by why that would be.

Trying not to roll my eyes I simply said, "I'll put it in the diary."

"Good. Good. That's good," he answered, already gone in his mind, no doubt not even hearing my answer. But then my attention was diverted from him to the person standing behind him anyway. The same person he strolled straight through without a second thought other than a slight shiver as he headed for my door, mumbling to himself along the way. Having tuned him out the moment my eyes landed on the young, devastated girl standing before me I smoothly moved out from behind my desk, my eyes never leaving her trembling incorporeal form. Her next words only served to make my stomach drop and my head suddenly start to pound though.

"I'm looking for the mediator?" she crumbled, wringing her hands together in front of her as she stepped closer to my desk.

Smothering the urge to sigh and verbally remind myself _why_ I have the patience to help spirits I took a deep breath, inwardly keeping my fingers crossed my last year of college doesn't get started with a particularly troublesome ghost. And then a heavy cloak of sadness fell on my shoulders as I realised how selfish and unfair I was being and prepared myself by trying to give her a reassuring smile and a quiet tone as I replied. She looked like she would take flight and disappear with any sudden movements or noise.

"I'm the mediator, how can I help?"

The young, waif like girls shoulders shook with silent tears as she peered at me through water logged lashes. My selfish feelings now completely evaporated my big brother instincts kicked in and made me want to wrap my arms around the young ghost and offer her some kind of condolence. But the raw pain visible in her shimmering eyes held me back, the intensity of her grief pouring off her and making the air thick with emotion. I like to pride myself on not squirming away from emotions, unlike my father. But when you're faced with spirits on a weekly and sometimes daily basis, you learn to not hide from them. But this girl was making even my strong resolve shake and stumble.

"It's my boyfriend; you need to help my boyfriend. He's in so much pain, it's killing him," As she said the last few words her shaking legs gave way beneath her and dropped her weightless body to the floor of my office. Sparing a quick glance out the open door of my office I dropped before her, hesitantly reaching out to touch her small shaking shoulder. The moment I made eye contact she gasped and physically pulled away from me, wide eyes staring back at me. I presumed she hasn't been touched since her unfortunate death, but her next words told me otherwise.

"You...Who _are_ you?" her voice was as soft as a whisper as she stared at me long and hard, making me want to squirm where I was kneeling before her.

"I'm Jesse de Silva, the mediator. What's your name?" I replied, calling on my seemingly never ending patience.

"No," she forcefully replied, the strength to her voice surprising me considering how weak and frail she physically looks. "_Who are you_?"

I opened my mouth to say the same thing I just had, not understanding her question when she suddenly snapped her eyes away from me and crumbled into tears again. "He's in so much pain, I can feel him," she sobbed, my chest tightening just hearing the scratch of defeat to her voice. "Find him; find Ethan before it's too late. We have to save him. _Please_."

"Of course, I'll do all that I can, but - no, _wait_!" I called as she shimmered out of the space in front of me, my sentence cut off before I could finish or even find out who this Ethan is. "Dammit," I cursed, wishing not for the first time that I could make a spirit stay with just my will until I got all the information I need. But then that would be messing around with someone's free will and even as I thought it I knew it was wrong. But I have to question whether it's just a thing spirits do, giving you titbits of information and then leaving you to find the rest for yourself. Either way, it isn't very helpful; especially when this young girl has given me such a strong feeling that time is not on this Ethan's side.

Getting back up from kneeling on the floor I walked back around to sit at my desk, firing up my laptop as I prepared myself for the next little while of research hunting with just a name to go on.

And so the hidden, secretive part of my life once again interrupted my normal day. As it has since I can remember.


	4. Chapter Three

_**A/N:**_ Hi everyone, I'm so sorry for the delay in updating. If anyone could give me a device that stops time so I can just put life on hold that would be fantastic! :) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, it's a little like a filler chapter, but is still (I hope) as good. Enjoy! Reviews are love...so is cake. x

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_**'There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.' **_Ella Wheeler Wilcox

_**Chapter Three**_

As far as the first week of back to school goes mine as a junior wasn't too bad. I got what I expected once I strolled in on Pauls arm; envious looks, conspiring whispers behind my back, Kelly trying to muscle in on him when she thought I haven't been looking. As for that, well it didn't ignite the jealousy and anger in me I thought it would. But for the rest, the usual daily meetings with Father D and getting a bag load of homework from all teachers, life wasn't too bad. I even got to test out the new hot tub - after making sure it's been thoroughly disinfected out after catching Dopey and Debbie Mancuso in it one evening. Life's been, well I guess you could say life's been good for me.

So I guess that's why I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I'm not that surprised that I haven't had many ghostly visits, not that I'd want one! Because I wouldn't. But between me, Paul and Father D I guess there's more choice of Mediator help around here than there was before. I try not to look too closely why I feel a rush of _something_ whenever a ghost shimmers into my room, or bathroom or any other place that is a massive inconvenience to me. It's not as if things haven't been picking up lately, because as I've already covered, they have. But being bugged by a pesky spirit . . . well I guess that gives me a different kind of thrill. One that makes my heart race as I turn to look at them. I don't know what I'm expecting to see when I do, but I guess whatever it is it hasn't happened yet because I always feel a pang of . . . _something_ quickly after.

That was the same feeling I got now as the ghost shimmered into existence next to me where I was laying on my bed, reading another doodle covered letter from my best friend, Gina. I closed my eyes for a second trying to gather my patience and the fall out of disappointment I knew I'd get when I turned to look at them. But as I opened my eyes and looked at the young devastated girl beside my bed, I instantly sat up straighter and took attention.

Of course I've had upset and inconsolable ghosts crying to me before. Sleepy, Dopey and Doc's mom being one of them a few months back. But this one seemed different. _She_ seemed different. There was something about her expression, the intense pain she looked like she was in that made me swing my legs off the bed and stand up. I had the insane and totally not me urge to give her a hug, but was smart enough to not do it. I don't exactly enjoy physical contact with the dead, unless it's my dear old dad. So I stopped myself from taking a step forward to comfort the girl.

Geez, she didn't even look that old on first glance. But the more I stared at her, the more I realised she was around my age. The sadness and eerie glow around her making her look more like a child.

"I need your help," she quivered before I could say anything. Honestly, she looked so heartbroken that I didn't even know _what_ to say first. "I n - n - need a Mediator. Are you her?" I stamped down on my sarcastic retort of, _'Well duh; how many other girls do you know that can see the dead_?' But judging from the tears making her eyes shimmer that would have been the coldest reaction Father D has been telling me to change.

"Yeah, that's me," I answered, sitting back down on the edge of my bed, never taking my eyes from her. She looked so tiny. Not just in height, but she was so slim I had to wonder how she died in the first place. It's not as if they go around with name tags and cause of death labels attached to them. Her long wavy hair pooled over both shoulders, adding to the innocent young look of her. I wonder how much that must have annoyed her when she was alive, being mistaken for a kid and not a teenager. "I'm Suze, what's your name?"

"Anna," she simply said, her small porcelain coloured hands wringing together in front of her. Now I'm not saying having an eerie glow would help anyone's complexion, but for Anna it was just bad. If I didn't know better I would have said she was even paler because of the obvious upset, the colour literally drained from her. I'm sure when she was alive she had more colour to her. But here in my bedroom, she just looked completely washed out. "I - I've already spoken to the other Mediator, but I need more help, _Ethan_ needs more help. I don't know what else to do!"

Other Mediator? Was she talking about Paul or Father D?

"What other Mediator did you go to? And who is Ethan?"

Sighing impatiently she chewed down on her bottom lip, nerves eating this girl from the inside out. She was beginning to make me nervous too. I guess this is the proverbial other Jimmy Choo shoe I've been waiting to drop on my head. "The other Mediator, I don't know his name," Which was no help to me whatsoever, so I just let it go, making the mental note to talk to Paul or Father D in the morning. "Ethan is my boyfriend and he needs your help. He's so lost without me, he blames himself for me dying, but it's _not his fault_, I swear! It was just an accident, a stupid freak accident. But he's going to destroy himself; you _need_ to help him, please!"

"OK, OK, calm down I'll help him, I'll help you," I reassured her as patiently as possible. Her voice had been getting weaker and weaker the more she spoke. She looked like she was crumbling in to her self, shrinking even more under the weight of her pain. "What's his full name? Where can I find him?"

Lifting a hand to her chest she clutched at it, almost doubling over before me. I jumped to my feet, trying not to reach out to help her.

"Oh God, he needs me, he's in so much pain," she sobbed, her body shaking with the strain of it. "I have to go to him, help him, please! His name is Ethan Baker, find him!" And just like that, she was gone. The second she dematerialised I sank down on to my padded window seat and pulled my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees. I might not be the most in touch with my emotions person, going through life more than a little numb to everything good and bad, but it doesn't mean I'm completely immune. And something about Anna struck something in me that nearly tore the breath from my lungs. Like I could feel her pain.

But I could, couldn't I? Because it's the same pain I feel when I wake up from my repetitive nightmare. The same heartbreak she was feeling. Maybe that's why I felt like I wanted to comfort her. Why I feel like I _need_ to help her.

Maybe the Californian sun has finally broken something in me.

"Hey kiddo," My dad, Peter Simon suddenly said from beside me, his voice soft and quiet.

Lifting my head from my knees I turned to see him sitting next to me on the window seat, his usually strong frame a little weighed under like mine. "Hey dad," I replied, giving him a tired smile. "What are you doing here?" Because I don't like anyone to see me looking even the tiniest bit weak, I dropped my legs and arms so I wasn't so defensive. Oh yeah, I'm the poster child for defensive, but I don't have to admit that out loud to anyone. Even if my dad did look at me like he could see right through my act. He wasn't a damn good lawyer when he was alive because he was soft after-all.

"It felt like you needed me, so here I am," he shrugged, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. I guess it should have been, except my dad has never reacted to me like that in the past. Maybe that's because this is one of the first times I've ever felt the way I do. But either way it made me feel uncomfortable so I got up off the window seat - sitting there with my dad felt wrong for some reason - and went back to sitting crossed legged on my bed, fiddling with Gina's letter. "She was very upset."

'_No shit_,' was what I wanted to say, but this is my dad after all, so I kept my mouth shut and just nodded.

I guess I must have been giving off change the subject vibes because my dad dropped it like a hot potato. "How's school? How's your mom? How's Father Dominic?" he reeled off, making himself comfortable on the seat, as though he has all the time in the world. OK, so he does, being dead and all. But it didn't mean I needed him spending that time here, asking questions that I know he already has the answers too, but is just making idle chit chat.

"Why don't you say what you really want to say, dad?" I asked tiredly, exhausted all of a sudden by all the ghost activity and stress of emotions. Being numb is much better than feeling like _this_, after-all.

"Picked up on that, huh?" he chuckled, raising a sneakered foot to cross over his knee. Something about the action made me frown, an image coming to me from the back of my mind. But when I tried to reach out to grasp it, it leapt away from me and disappeared. I shook it off and focused back on my dad. "How's Paul?" he asked, his tone not as light hearted as it was before.

And there it was. The main reason for his visit.

"Paul's fine, dad. Been to visit him yet?" I retorted, meeting fire with fire. I am his daughter after-all. Where do you think I got all my badassery from?

My dad narrowed his eyes at me, debating whether he was going to remark on my tone or not. Clearly deciding it wasn't worth the hassle - this time - he shrugged as if there was nothing more to his question but idle curiosity. "No. Why, do I need to?" he asked, putting his foot back down on the floor. In my mind I heard it land with a lot more power than what it did and not for the first time, I wondered if I was maybe losing my mind a little. It's not as if I can talk to the dead or anything too . . .

Oh wait.

"Nope, everything's fine and dandy, sugar and candy," I grinned back innocently.

Tapping his fingers on my window seat cushion, my dad steadily looked back at me, clearly biding his time. And then, "I don't like him, Suze. I don't think he's good for you. I don't - I don't get a good feeling from him." he finally said, looking like the words cost him to say. "I want you to be happy; I want you to find someone who cares about you. But there's something . . . something I can't put my finger on with him. I know your mom feels the same way. So does Andy, even if I don't want to admit that. I also know me saying this isn't going to make you break up with him, but likely send you running in to his arms more. So . . . I won't say anything else. But just know that I _am_ keeping an eye on him."

Not at all surprised by what he just said, I shrugged it off. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, dad."

Sighing with relief that I wasn't about to suddenly pop an artery yelling at him for butting in, because honestly it doesn't make any difference to me what anyone else thinks of Paul, my dad stood up and clapped his hands together. "Great. Good, well I've said my piece I'll leave you alone then. See you later, kiddo." He leaned forward and kissed my head, running a quick hand over my hair once before he shimmered away and I was left alone again, staring at the window seat and wondering a thousand things.

xXx

The next morning I got a ride into school with Dopey and Doc, with Jake having started college it's been up to us to make our own way there. Unfortunately Dopey took that as his sign to be the one to do it, but he usually forgets he has passengers if his terrible singing, ear-piercing music and bad driving are anything to go by. Doc, being used to his brothers driving by now sat in the back seat somehow balancing his open laptop on his lap as we flew through the tourist traffic hindered by no stop lights. I might not be the most in touch with my feelings girl, but I don't have a death wish!

Dopey snorted at this when I turned the music down and told him that. "Right, Queen of the Night People, whatever you say."

_Reminder to self, slug him when out of the car_.

Unfortunately my idiot step brother was out of the car and across the parking lot before I had to chance to act on my threat. "Find your own way home after school, I'm busy!" he yelled to us, barely even glancing in our direction as he remote locked the Land Rover.

Too tired to even shout anything back I just shouldered my bag and heaved what must have been a pretty pathetic sigh to have made Doc look up from his own bag rummaging to peer closely at me from his bespectacled face. "What's wrong Suze? You look tired. Are you sleeping?" he asked, looking closer. Frowning I stopped the urge to snap at him, deciding in-stead that he didn't mean any harm by his off-hand insult and ruffled his red, curly hair instead. "Are you still having nightmares?" he continued, pulling me to a stop as I tried to walk away from him.

How the hell?

Flushing so his facial colour mirrored his hair and looking embarrassed he looked down at his scuffed sneakers in-stead of me. "Ugh, I've heard you sometimes, crying out. It wakes Max up and he wakes me up until I go and investigate what's wrong. Do you want to talk about it? I mean, I can't really hear what you yell out, but maybe we can find the route cause of it. It's a repetitive one isn't it? You know statistics say that students experience an average of 4 to 8 nightmares a year, while adults normally experience nightmares only once or twice a year. So if you go by those facts - "

"That's OK, I don't need any help," I interrupted him not so kindly, sighing guiltily before smiling awkwardly at him after to apologize. But that's the great thing about Doc, he never takes offence. He knows he's more of a walking encyclopaedia than a normal human, or even kid his age. "I just need an undisturbed nights sleep and everything will be great, nothing to worry about." Doc looked like he was about to fight me on it until I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and led him into the school with me. "So how's your friend, Shannon?" I asked before he could push any further on me. My question pretty effectively took his mind off that and sent his colour into a whole new shade of red I haven't seen before.

"Ugh, I don't - she's just - uh." he stammered sweetly, making me laugh as I stopped tormenting him.

"It's OK, I won't tell anyone. Your secrets safe with me, little brother," I ruffled his hair again, the sentiment of brother taking me as much by surprise as it did him. But it seemed to have the right effect because I'm sure he stood a little taller and walked with a little more confidence after that. Once we stepped into the courtyard I let him go, feeling proud of him. Sure he still eats as badly as Sleepy and Dopey and still hasn't mastered the art of using a glass for a drink from the fridge. But he's still my favourite of my new family and I would do anything for him.

Snapping back to the present I made quick work of getting to Father D's office before the bell rang, keeping an eye out for Paul anywhere along the way. Just as I was about to breezily walk to his closed office door though it swung open revealing my favourite white haired principal and fellow Mediator.

"Susannah, good morning," Father D smiled at me kindly, his sparkling blue eyes shining back behind his glasses. "Why Susannah, are you OK? You look very tired." he enquired, peering at me closely as we walked together back to the breezeway of the school, our steps slow and steady. Why was everyone saying that to me today? Sure I had a rough night, Anna the ghost shook me up a little and then my nightmare hit again. But I thought I'd done a good job of hiding the dark circles beneath my eyes by making sure my hair looks especially good and my outfit super hot. I guess that's what you get for being friends with a priest and a red haired kid.

Ignoring his question I asked one of my own. "Has a ghost been to you recently, called Anna?" I all but whispered. I was pretty sure it wasn't Father D she was talking about, I'm sure she'd have mentioned he was also a priest. But then the girl was pretty cut up, there's a good chance she didn't even notice _who_ she was talking to. The perplexed look on Father D's face told me everything I needed to know though. He didn't have a clue. "Never mind, she must have meant Paul then." I muttered preparing to walk to my homeroom as the bell had just rung.

"Hold on, Susannah. Is it something you need help with?" he asked me, concerned.

Shaking my head, I took careful steps back hinting that I needed to go. "No, I'm fine. I can handle this one alone. I'll ask if I get stuck, thanks." Smiling not very convincingly I gave him a wave of my fingers and strolled to homeroom, still keeping an eye out for Paul along the way. Where _is_ he today? Although we've only been back to school a week, the two days he hasn't given me a ride in has had him right there waiting by my passenger door the moment I pull up. Not that I missed that this morning, because the space hasn't exactly been awful. But for him, it was a little strange.

Consciously flicking it off, I sat through the next few hours of school in a bit of a sleepy daze, not taking any notes from my classes and daydreaming through most of it. The physical absence from Paul had continued, but not the silence. My cell he brought me vibrating in my bag enough times that I almost had it confiscated by Sister Ernestine more than once in one class. As if that nun needs any reason to pick on me. But the constant texts saying, '_I miss you_.' and, '_Can't wait to kiss you_.' reminded me of when we first started going out.

Believe it or not but I wasn't exactly jumping at the chance to date him when he first asked me. I turned him down a couple of times before he convinced me to say yes. And that was after I found out he's a Mediator too! It was the lure of finding out more about Mediators or _Shifters_ as he called us that led us to going on more dates and by then he had me hooked. Other than a few little hints here and there he hasn't really explained much more about it, even though I've asked. He has an uncanny way of kissing me as I start to get curious and by then I'm too distracted to remember what I wanted to know. The other times he's told me he's still gathering the information together and that'll he _show_ me soon. I mean, how much about seeing ghosts can you show someone?

Either way I haven't let it go yet and he knows I'm getting a little impatient. Not that I'm only with him to find out what he knows! Because I'm not, the making out definitely helps. But my curiosity . . . that's not something I can ignore forever.

"Earth to Suze, come in Suze!" CeeCee prodded me, poking me with a finger.

"What? I'm listening, I'm here," I retorted, knocking her finger away from my ribs.

"Oh you are? Because I was just talking to you about the Winter Formal and you totally spaced out on me. The Winter Formal, Suze!" she all but shouted in my face. "You know the one that means lots of shopping for the perfect dress and talking about who will ask who to go. I thought that would be right up your street since Paul came into the picture." She sniffed indignantly, another member of the We-Hate-Paul-Slater fan club. I would love to say it's because he's been taking up a lot of my spare time I usually spend with CeeCee and Adam, but it's not. It's just because like my dad and family, there's something about him that seems _off_ to CeeCee's journalist nature.

Adam isn't exactly singing his praises either.

Thinking about what she said about the Winter Formal only made me shudder. It's been the furthest thing from my mind, when she's right, I should be excited about it. My first dance with a date, let alone a boyfriend! Not that Paul and I have talked about going, but I guess I just assumed we would be. My mom's mentioned it a few times but I've just brushed it off, wanting to talk about it another time. It's not as if it's next week or anything. She's not stupid though, she must be picking up on my reluctance to go because she keeps asking me if there's anything I want to talk about.

I tried hard to not groan at the idea of _that_ talk and what she _thinks_ is wrong.

"Oh, speak of the devil and he will appear." CeeCee muttered suddenly, turning away as Paul sauntered over to us, his eyes pinning me in place as he ignored the stares and wanton looks around him, including the glares from my best friends.

"Hey beautiful, I've missed you," he told me as his stride took him straight to me, his arms wrapping possessively around my waist as he kissed me right there, outside the Historical Society building and in front of the majority of our junior class. I'm not exactly one for shying away from Paul's kisses, but I draw the line at too much PDA, so pulled myself away before tongue got involved too. I'm so sure Dopey will be going back to tell my mom and Andy what happened anyway, judging from his grossed out expression as he stared at us. "Now my days complete."

Smiling back, because that's what a good girlfriend would do right? Not shy away from her hot boyfriends touch and actually be deliriously happy to see him. It's nothing against Paul either; I just don't feel those weird bad vibes from him that everyone else seems to. But hello? Girl numb to everything here! And yes, that does include being groped and kissed by a very hot, model like guy, who is quickly becoming one of the most popular guys at school too. There really _is_ something wrong with me, isn't there? To not even get the flutters anymore . . .

"Hey, can I have a word?" I asked him once everyone started filing into the museum for the history tour. He looked at me questioningly, and not in the way that told me he noticed anything about my withdrawal from him thankfully. "Have you had a ghost come to see you recently? A girl about our age, called Anna?" I kept my voice low just in case anyone over-heard us. I'm not about to start making up codenames for ghosts, people think I'm weird enough, no need to make it worse.

Frowning at me, Paul rubbed his hand up and down my bare arm. But that just felt like he was wearing gloves, his touch barely sparking anymore than a vague awareness. "Suze, what have I told you about being charitable to ghosts? You've got your priorities all wrong with them. You're not here to solve their problems for them," he patronized, making a frisson of anger spark off in me. "I haven't seen any ghosts like that recently and if she comes to see you again send her my way, I'll push her to where she needs to go." Something in the tone of his voice and gleam in his blue eyes told me that would be a very big, bad mistake for Anna, and Ethan - her grief-stricken boyfriend - wouldn't get the _help_ they need.

Keeping that thought to myself though I just nodded, knowing a losing battle when I see one.

Turning away from Paul I let him wrap his arm around my waist as we joined the junior class in the museum, my stomach somersaulting at his words. If he and Father D weren't the Mediators Anna said she went to, then who was she talking about? I guess it's possible there's more than the three of us, with Jack Slater being back in Seattle. I went sixteen years of my life thinking I was the only one to be able to see ghosts, to then find there are three more people who could too. But who is the other one?

"Good afternoon children, welcome to the Historical Society," A nasally voice rose up as we stood off to the side of the group, most people already looking around at the artefacts in the glass cases on show. I directed my eyes to the man up front with the frizzy greying hair and thick coke-bottled glasses perched high up on his nose. His ugly brown tie wasn't straight and his shirt looked like it had a coffee stain on it. His appearance matched the boring, monotone of his voice perfectly. "My name is Dr Clive Clemmings, PhD and I will be giving the tour today with the help of my assistant, Mr de Silva." Vaguely gesturing off to the side of him, I glanced at the guy walking towards our tour group and felt my heart come to a sudden stop in my chest.

_I know him_...

That's what I wanted to say. I wanted to suddenly point and hysterically shout, "_I know him_!" - my finger practically twitched with the desire to.

Everything dropped away from around me, I heard nothing the nasally man said, I didn't feel Paul's tight arm around my waist. I could have been standing there stark naked for all of my peers to see, but I honestly wouldn't have noticed or cared because I could _not_ rip my eyes away from this guy. I was too scared to blink in case he would be gone when I opened them again. I couldn't move - I don't know if I breathed. I was greedily taking him in, looking from his dark wavy hair to his straight nose leading down to his thin lips. I never seen him before, but I wanted to run a finger through the pale scar cutting through his left eyebrow and look deep into his fathomless dark eyes.

_But I _know_ him..._

But above all of the physical reactions I was having to him, I was just as shaken by the emotional too. The intense, almost painful familiarity I felt the moment I looked at him was feeding the dormant, numb part of me and I felt shaky and weak from the sudden rush that came with it. It was like I was me, but I wasn't. The contradicting emotions made me dizzy, but still I stared at him, almost willing him to look my way so I could have that connection with him. I needed that connection with him so badly tears burnt my eyes.

_Who is he_ and _what_ is he doing to me?

My body wanted to move closer to him. It's like I'm so cold all the time, but looking at this guy I know, I just _know_ he would be the warmth I'm so desperate to feel. His arms would wrap around me and make me feel safe at last, I know he would. I caught myself staring at his mouth again – suddenly desperate to know if his lips would make me feel all the things Paul is supposed to make me feel.

But then that thought was like a bucket of ice cold water on my head as I finally tore my eyes away from him and looked down at my feet, heat and blood rushing to my face and spreading throughout my body like a drum beat, thrumming again and again.

"I need to use the bathroom," I muttered to Paul suddenly needing to get away from him, away from the man so familiar to me even though I wasn't near him. I needed to get a hold of myself and fast!

Frowning at me Paul let me go and watched me dash away, no one else seeming to notice my quick escape. Except I didn't go to the bathroom, I ducked off to the side somewhere so I could breathe and have some space. I could still hear the dull boring tones of Dr Clemmings' voice ricocheting around the museum and it just made me press my body to the wall that much harder.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, Anna suddenly decided to shimmer into existence near me too. Jumping out of my skin I frantically waved for her to shimmer away, to leave. But she was in just as much of a state now as she was when she came to my bedroom last night and I felt that same pain in my chest from before. Hearing the sounds of footsteps I moved along the wall, desperately trying to stay more hidden from whoever was coming – _hoping_ it wasn't Paul.

"You," Anna half sobbed, half said to the person coming towards us, relief taking over her young pretty face.

"Hello Anna," the deep, very masculine warm voice, like a balm to my frazzled emotions, responded. The same voice that wasn't my boyfriend but could definitely see the ghost standing in front of him. Like a second bucket of ice water over my head it spurred me into moving from my melting into the wall and showing myself to the person cresting the corner where I hid - to see this other Mediator that up until this afternoon I had no idea existed. With my hand pressed to my chest to stop my racing heart I looked at the breath-taking guy who had made me react in ways I have never done before and took in his equal surprise and shock once he spotted me.

Call me big-headed but he looked as though he was having as tough a time taking his eyes off me as I was him.

But damn he looked even better closer up than he did from afar and my body started to shake all over again.

"Please, you both have to help me," Anna pleaded, interrupting our staring contest and laying a hand on both our arms. When did we become so close to each other? What was I supposed to be doing? I was confused and wary and all I knew was that I didn't want to take my eyes off the guy standing in front of me. Or that I didn't even care that a ghost was touching me without permission. But Anna was insistent and her grief was almost like a fog in the air around us. "_Please_ . . ."

"Anna, I - " I started to say before I was cut off.

"_You can see her_?" Guy who has even darker eyes up close than I first thought said; shock and what looked like relief warring with his expression. Being within touching distance of him I watched with fascination as the scar through his eyebrow slowly turned white, a stark contrast to the inky black of his eyebrows and olive skin tone. My fingers twitched again and I forced my hands to stay where they were.

"Suze, you're missing the - _What's going on_?" Paul demanded coming to a sudden stop as his eyes took the whole scene in with one sweep of his crystal blue eyes, missing nothing. His hands fisted at his side as he took in how close to the mystery, familiar guy I was, Anna standing as a mediator between us, ironically. But like most ghosts do when they get you into trouble she disappeared the moment Paul appeared. That only left me caught out staring up dreamily into the stranger's eyes with my boyfriend glaring at us menacingly.

I realized then that my life is about to go from semi normal teenage girl with a hint of crazy; to never being the same again.

Simply because of one unbelievably handsome and familiar stranger I met who as it turns out also happens to be a Mediator.

_Go figure_.


	5. Chapter Four

**_A/N:_** I'm so sorry for taking this long to update! Life went a little haywire for a few months there. It's balancing out now though. Thank you for the continued support and love for this! I struggled with Suze's 'voice' in this, but I think I'm a little rusty with writing in general. I'll try and make up for it. I should be writing a Halloween one-shot soon, so keep your eyes out. As always, reviews are love and thank you for reading! :) x

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**'_You caught me staring, but I caught you staring back,' - _**Unknown

**_Chapter Four_**

It was with great reluctance that I tore my eyes from the unusual green of the girls I was staring in to. Our close proximity strangely filling me with warmth the ghost Anna had zapped from me the moment she had touched my arm. But the hard glare of the angry guy staring at us was too aggravating to ignore any longer. I felt an odd sense of panic as she put distance between us; my strong reaction to her leaving me more shaken and confused than I wanted either her or the glaring boy to see. It felt like my head was filled with cotton wool, all thick and full.

Maybe it was that she could see Anna that had me feeling this way? _Or maybe sometimes I like to lie to myself when I don't understand something_.

One look into the face of the guy looking like he would like to bury me alive woke me up though.

"_Paul_," the girl said in a way that sent chills down my spine. But there was something about the sound that was so familiar and comforting. I got the strongest sense of De-Ja-Vu I have ever felt - and I have had my fair share since moving to Carmel, oddly enough - when I had first laid my eyes upon her. There has to be a connection to her ability to see spirits too, surely I tried to reason with myself. It's been a very long time since I have met anyone else with the same ability as me. That's why I can't stop wanting to stare at her, to soak in every detail of the vast array of expressions criss-crossing her delicate and flushed face.

"_What_ is going on? And who is this? _Suze_," this Paul guy said again, the girls name on his lips sounding like a possession and an unspoken warning that instantly made my selfish thoughts dissolve as I frowned, wanting to take a protective step in front of this - _Sooze_? I don't know who he is to her and I told myself I don't care; a person should never try to gain control of someone like the way he was provoking her. His arm outstretched towards her, summoning rather than beckoning. She was yet to move from the spot she stopped in once putting distance between us though.

I dared not look at her in-case I couldn't look away.

"I felt lightheaded and sick, I just needed some space. He - " I saw her gesture to me out the corner of my eye, her voice softening as she mentioned me, not knowing my name or really what I'd been doing to have gotten us here in this strange and a little unsettling predicament. This as it turned out, was trying to see to Anna without anyone noticing. " - was just helping me out when - when you arrived. I'm fine now; let's go back to the tour. Thank you . . ." she stopped in front of me as she moved towards Paul, her green eyes wide and hopeful as she looked up at me.

I felt my heart painfully thump once, and I was sure loud enough for her to hear.

"Jesse de Silva," I finished for her, filling in the blank.

Fascinated I watched as she tugged her lower lip between her teeth before meeting her eyes again, a flash of awareness raised in them before she tamped the fire out, unfortunately. My arms felt heavy where they hung at my sides because of how much I wanted to have some kind of physical contact with her. Maybe some way to reassure her and myself in some way? That's what I told myself anyway as I tried to rationalize with myself that I don't even know this girl. Or maybe I just want to see what would happen, considering just looking at her has such a profound affect on me. In-stead I took my eyes from her and met the even harder glare of Paul, a threat written clear across his face. Twisting my lips sardonically I looked away from him, just to have them instantly fall to hers again, attracted like a magnet, powerless to stop myself.

"Right, of course . . . _Jesse_," she breathed, her eyes growing heavy for a second as my name slipped between her full lips. I think I did a great job of not letting on how much hearing it made me shiver and suck in a breath, desperate to hear her say it again, no matter which emotion it was being based from. "Thanks for your help."

Smiling, I shrugged. "Anytime, Sooze." her name not rolling from my tongue quite as eloquently as mine had from hers, unfortunately. It felt foreign and wrong to say and I inwardly winced at the stupid move.

But it only seemed to make her laugh, her shoulders shaking slightly with the effort, the sound rich and uplifting. "It's _Suze_, short for Susannah. Good try though." she corrected me, her full name making a sharp pang twist my chest. I watched entranced as she turned, her soft shiny hair swinging across her shoulders as she walked to Paul and gripped his arm hard enough to no doubt leave a mark and dragged him from me, determinedly not looking back at me. He on the other hand narrowed his gaze, the cold blue shooting ice at me. I resisted the urge to give him a cheerful wave, knowing I should rise above it, but wanting to be childish all the same.

But there was something about my reaction to Susannah that I knew I wouldn't be shaking off anytime soon.

Taking a deep breath, the sounds of Clive's monotone voice echoing back to me reminding me I still have a job too, I checked my watch and went back to the school crowd. Although it had only been a few minutes that everything transpired between meeting Susannah and her walking away, it felt like a lot longer and made time seem to crawl to a stop. Taking in the junior class standing around in various states of boredom I automatically looked over them all for the familiar head of Susannah, not breathing properly until I saw her tucked away at the back with Paul, his arm tight around her waist.

Seeming to sense my gaze she looked straight back at me, a smile lighting her face for a second until she looked away again, Paul thankfully missing the exchange. After that it was pure effort on my part to not look at her constantly during the tour, almost wishing my voice would reach her only, wanting to draw her in as strongly as she somehow had me.

I'm not dumb, I'm fully aware of her visceral reaction to me back. It wasn't a one sided - attraction? Connection? Familiarity? - and Susannah knows it too. Just like I know that today will not be the end to our meetings, if I can help it. Because there is still the small factor of her seeing and being touched by Anna, a lost spirit looking for a resolution so she can move on and be at rest, wherever that may be.

Seeing spirits has been a parlour trick of mine since I was a very young boy. I'm sure it should have frightened me, seeing people my family and friends couldn't. Maybe that was my upbringing, my _Abuela_ and _Abuelo_ being the superstitious, spiritual people they were. Being different within my family is a blessing, not a curse. With the exception of recently, my patience wearing a little thin as I have tried my best to juggle work, college, friends and family and being a Mediator - or so I have been told is what I'm called - I haven't readily invited spirits to come to me for help.

Still I have never found the need to tell anyone of my gift, preferring to keep it to myself. It's not something that can be easily dropped into conversation, after-all, even with today's New Age acceptance. And save for one man who I met while living in Spain with my family, I haven't met anyone else with my gift . . . until today.

Oliver was a shrewd and blunt man who told me vaguely of what my gift is and what I could choose to do with it. Ignore or embrace it. I chose the latter, even at a young age. Looking back I realize now that he didn't necessarily agree with my choice. But he told me as he walked away from me for that one and only meeting, that as I get older I may be surprised by how my gift grows. I'm still yet to see what he meant by that and only every now and again do I feel the urge to look him up. I'm sure I could somehow use being able to talk to spirits to my advantage with that. But maybe my reluctance to do so is because of my recent neglect and frustration with it, not needing anymore to add to my load. Or maybe I'm unsure of how it will change my life.

Either way meeting Susannah, a fellow mediator has been like someone pulling up the shades over my life, sunlight and warmth washing over me. All those emotions, all those questions and all those strong reactions happening in minutes, stealing my breath away.

_Who_ is she? _How_ can I see her again? And _why now_?

I didn't have the answers to any of those questions. Not at the beginning of my talk on the tour and not at the end of it.

I made it through ignoring Clive's questioning looks as I stumbled my way through answering questions; brushed off the interested and keen glances from some of the girls in the class and pretended Paul's death threat glares weren't igniting my anger. Anna didn't appear again during the tour and Susannah never got close enough to me to say anything else. As soon as I was given the chance I went back to my little office next to Clive's and collapsed into my desk chair, my hands shaking from the exhaustion of trying to stay focused. I raked them through my hair, wondering what could possibly be wrong with me, other than the obvious. I've never been attracted to someone in such a strong way before.

I also have never felt such a powerful sense of - of - _something_, when around another person before.

"Maybe I'm finally losing my mind," I muttered to myself, collapsing forward so my elbows rested on my desk, my head in my hands. I'm a grown man, I live alone, I go to college, and I'm surrounded every day by interesting, beautiful woman. But the voice in my mind, shouting the truth reminded me I have never looked into another woman's eyes the way I looked into Susannah's. Never been pulled in so deep in an instant connection, unable to stop myself and not wanting to. I've never had a woman look up at me so much trust and hope, no matter how long I have known her.

Restlessly I threw myself back against my chair again, my head knocking against the back of it. I tried not to groan when I heard a knock at my closed door and made a non-committal sound for the person to enter instead, doing my best to not look like I was drowning in a sea of questions, doubts and confusion. It was Mrs Lampert on the other side of the door thankfully.

"A young woman left this at the front desk for you," she told me as she strolled in and passed me the folded slip of paper over the desk. She raised questioning eyebrows at me, a hint of mischief in her eyes as she turned back around and closed the door behind her.

I'm not ashamed to admit I was hoping the note would be from Susannah and opened it instantly, a rushed but efficient scrawl sloping across the torn off piece of paper.

'- _Jesse,_

_Meet me at the Basilica cemetery at 11pm._

\- _Susannah'_.

Gripping the paper tightly in my hand I read the words again and again, memorising them instantly as a smile grew across my face.

Eleven pm couldn't come around quick enough, I decided.

xXx

I would like to make a point for the record, that I am _not_ a pacer. I have never found myself pacing around in tight circles that leave grooves in the dirt because I can't stay still. I am and have always been eerily calm, detached and a non-pacer. I have definitely given in to my anger on more than one occasion when trying to deal with a ghost that just needs a few punches to their face and a swift kick to the stomach. It's about as close to a strong emotional reaction anyone ever gets out of me. And only ghosts have managed that. But not once have I ever paced because of a ghost or a living person.

Until tonight.

Because that's what I found myself doing. Pacing back and forth in the old Basilica cemetery, my hands twisting together in a very not me display of nervousness. I, Suze Simon am _terrified_. When I dropped the note off at the receptionist in the Historical Society building today, I'm pretty sure I wasn't thinking straight. Hell, I'm still not thinking straight! Everything from the moment I walked out of that building to finding myself standing among the gravestones has just been one massive blur of colours and muffled conversations. I couldn't even tell you how I found myself getting to the cemetery. I just know that now I'm here, my feet won't stop moving as I wait for him to come.

Him . . . Jesse . . .

"_Oh god_," I muttered as suddenly my feet stopped and my knees threatened to buckle beneath me. If anything has been clear and precise today, it's _him_ and my embarrassing bumping in to him. I don't even know where to begin when I think about him, what part makes my heart race faster. All of it feels like some kind of really vivid and realistic day dream. But on the other hand I feel like something deep inside the dark, numb part of me suddenly just _snapped_! Like . . . like an elastic band pulled too taught and suddenly breathing wasn't as easy as it used to be.

He can see ghosts; he has hair I want to run my hands through; his voice makes my heart race.

And I have a boyfriend who doesn't make me feel anywhere near the same way that Jesse apparently does with just one meeting. _Who is he_ and why does it have to happen now?

Stumbling over to the nearest grave stone I perched on it before I gave in and sank to the damp grass I've been pacing on. I'm a rational person - mostly. I don't give in to fits of hysteria and girl screaming when a hot guy walks into the room. I'm cool, detached and as I've pointed out before, pretty emotionless to things a normal person would probably, _definitel_y react to. I'm not even that surprised that he's a mediator. I know I probably should be, but after going sixteen years of believing I'm the only one to meeting three in a matter of months, throwing another one into the equation really hasn't fazed me all that much.

But that's why I asked him to meet me here, isn't it? Because he spoke to Anna too?

"Ha!" I barked hoarsely, because that is a big, fat, _LIE_. I asked him to meet me here because I want to see him again. I want to just gaze at him and listen to him talk as I feel whatever he snapped inside me unravel as he does. Maybe I should want to help Anna, and a small, very distant part of me does. But the biggest part of me just simple wants to meet the man who for reasons I don't know, feels so scarily familiar to me. I'm totally allowed to feel that way, I told myself as I stared down onto my dew covered kick-ass boots. I've had life throw one shit storm at me after another. I'm _allowed_ to want to meet the person who makes all of that seem worth it in some strange way.

"_I am_," I whispered, barely audible even to my ears.

"Susannah?"

With a heart stopping jump I gasped as I shot to my feet and looked up at Jesse as he stood across from me, his face hidden in shadows where the moon had slipped behind some clouds. "You came," I said without conscious thought, blinking past the sudden moisture in my eyes. What does this guy _do_ to me?!

"Of course!" He replied, his voice almost urgent in its understanding as he took a small step towards me. I anxiously waited to see if he'd come any closer but then he just stopped, like he was glued to the grass. "You thought I wouldn't?" he asked me, tilting his head slightly out of curiosity I guessed. I swallowed nervously, stumbling back to my seat on someone's gravestone and sat down. Did I think he wouldn't come? No, not for even a second. I knew he would. I don't know how I knew that just that I did.

"No," I simply replied, my eyes taking him in from head to toe. He was dressed in dark clothes from what I could see in-between small snatches of moonlight I got. Now I have no idea what to say to him. How to start the conversation. His face still in shadows made it hard to see his expression, so I focused on somewhere in the vicinity of his chest as the silence stretched between us a little longer. I didn't take my eyes off him as he unglued his feet and moved to sit on a gravestone almost opposite mine, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He looked like he was relaxed, but I had to wonder if he was.

Clearing his throat roughly he broke the silence between us. "This is a weird occurrence, isn't it? We're complete strangers to each other, but yet we find ourselves here, in this situation anyway," he sounded almost confused as he spoke and I held my breath as I listened, my eyes unconsciously closing as I listened to him talk. "I would like to say I'm here because we seem to have a particular person in common, but I would be lying if I said it wasn't because of something else too..."

Sucking in a deep breath at his honesty I opened my eyes and stared right at him. I saw his face in the light then, seeing the surprise as he snapped his mouth shut, a frown furrowing his dark brows as he realized just what he'd said. I guess that was one way of acknowledging the elephant in the graveyard with us.

And then I did something totally unexpected and totally unlike me.

I laughed. Hard. I laughed to the point of tears leaking from my eyes as I bent over from my stomach stitching as I tried to gain breathe back.

I've finally lost it haven't I? I've finally cracked.

I don't know why I laughed; I don't know why Jesse joined me in doing it. I just know that by the time I straightened up and wiped the tears off my face that I didn't feel so tense and nervous anymore. I felt comfortable, calm and familiar all at the same time. I didn't stare at him like we're the last two people on earth any longer either, though I still felt that sharp pang of intimacy each time I took a glimpse of him. But all that raw, surface emotion I'm so not used to having settled into something more serene for the first time since I'd seen him earlier on in the day.

"I guess it'd be stupid to deny there's a connection between us," I commented, admitting out loud to us both that there definitely is _something_, there. I don't do denying - or at least I try not to. Why dance around something when you can just get it out there straight away and not waste your time. Judging by the small head tilt, Jesse agreed with me. "Maybe it's because we're both mediators . . ." I trailed off. Knowing as I said it that it wasn't that. After-all, I haven't felt like this when I first met Father D, Jack Slater and not even when I met Paul - my boyfriend.

_Crap_.

"You're only the second mediator I've ever met, so I couldn't confirm or deny that," Jesse shrugged; his tone didn't sound like he believed it anymore than I did. Sighing, I watched fascinated as his breath puffed out between us as he gazed around the graveyard, his face a kaleidoscope of expressions before he settled his sight back on me. "What made you decide to meet me here and not somewhere else more - inviting?" His thin lips tilted up a little in the corners with wry amusement. I fought to tear my eyes away from that small grin, pleasure making my toes curl in my boots. It sent a little shiver down my spine that his attention was so solely on me.

Biting my lip for a second I debated what to say back. "I guess I find it calming here. Besides if Paul sees us together he'll flip. He can get a little possessive." Blinking I looked away from him, surprising even myself with that much honesty. Since when have I thought Paul's possessive of me enough to not be seen in public with another guy, no matter how normal it is?

Jesse raised his eyebrows quickly before drawing them back down into a frown. It made me shift a little on my perch.

I was waiting for him to say something about Paul, to ask me why I'd put up with that, but thankfully he didn't. He seemed to let it drop. But I got the feeling he didn't like what I'd said and wouldn't forget it either. I mean it's not as if Paul helped himself earlier anyway, sending Jesse death glares. One look at Jesse and I can tell he'd be able to take Paul on in a fight and probably do a little damage too. Maybe another me somewhere, in another life would have loved the idea of two guys fighting over me. But this Suze, the one secretly meeting an insanely hot guy in a graveyard, doesn't want or need the drama. Someone who doesn't want to bring that kind of problem to Jesse's life.

Paul on the other hand . . . I tried very hard to find it in myself to worry about him.

I'm really winning girlfriend points with him today!

"Has Carmel always been your home?" Jesse asked me, changing the subject and pulling me back from my slight guilt over Paul.

Silently thanking him I smiled, wondering just how much of my Brooklyn accent he can detect. "No, I moved here in January when my mom remarried. We lived in Brooklyn my whole life before that. I like it here, the beach is my favourite place to go. What about you? Are you a native?" I questioned, leaning forward a little, eager to hear all about him.

He looks around about Sleepy's age, so he must be in college at least. Random that he works in the Historical Society, but then I've seen Sleepy pull double shifts delivering pizza's because of college. I guess you take any job you can get.

Chuckling lowly he looked up at the cloudy night sky. "My family has lived in Salinas County for generations, the same land and business handed down along the way. My parents moved my sister and me to Spain for a short time when I was younger, but I moved to Carmel when I started college. I'm studying to be a doctor. I work at the Historical Society mostly because of my family's strong historical roots here. They have some of our family's artefacts on display. It seemed like a logical decision at the time." he looked away from the sky and back at me, seeming to come back to me. He smiled and shrugged as if everything he'd just told me wasn't along the same lines of my thoughts seconds before.

"Where does helping ghosts fit in to all of that?" I found myself asking, because he sounded so tired when he spoke about work and college.

"Mostly it doesn't. It's not easy, as I'm sure you well know," he arched one dark eyebrow at me, daring me to deny it. I just ducked my head and toed the dirt a little at my feet. Again, my actions totally out of character for me. What is it about this guy that seems to re-write my entire personality? "Are you the only mediator around here?" This time he leaned towards me, his eagerness as obvious as mine must have been.

"I thought I was the only mediator _ever_ before I moved to Carmel," I told him, drumming my fingers on the cool stone beneath me. "But then I met Father Dominic - the principal of my school. And this summer a kid I was babysitting for. And his brother who you've already met - _Paul_," his eyes narrowed a little at that, but I went on hoping he wouldn't question that too much. "And now, you. I guess Carmel's a real hotspot for ghosts. You've only met one?"

"Yes, a very long time ago," he sighed, sitting back and staring off over my shoulder. "I guessed we weren't the only ones, but it's taken this long to meet another. Today wasn't your first visit from Anna either, was it?" he asked, locking his intense eyes back on me. I shook my head and he nodded as he went on. "She was in a car accident with her boyfriend a few months ago. Anna was killed instantly but her boyfriend - Ethan - escaped with a short stay in intensive care and has been recovering ever since. They live around here; they both went to Robert Louis Stevenson High School. Neither was particularly popular, not like the highly publicised deaths of the RLS Angels, anyway. I presume she wants both of our help if she's visited us both."

"You've found out more than I have," I murmured, selfishly glad she hadn't gone to Paul and Father D with this too. Father D would only rope me in to help anyway, but Paul - well I don't want to think of what Paul would do if she went his way. He's made it pretty clear to me that he thinks I'm stupid for trying to help them the way I do. I don't know how he does it, but I know he's gotten rid of a ghost in a way that wasn't solving their unfinished business. And there's something about Anna that I can't shake off. Something that won't let me walk away without helping her, even if I wanted to.

"Do you want to?" Jesse quietly asked me, his deep, rough voice snapping me out of my haze. I stared at him clueless. "Help Anna together." he clarified.

That would mean spending more time with him, sharing space and talking and fuelling the already sharp connection between us to a point that I wonder if I'll be able to walk away unscathed by the end of it. It would mean trying to hide it from Paul and stop any future fights that are sure to come up if he finds out. But it also means maybe figuring out why every time I look at him my heart thumps extra hard in my chest; why I find myself staring at him more than I normally would another person; why I feel like screaming, '_There you are_!' each time we lock eyes.

In the end it was those last thoughts that swayed me. I _want_ to spend time with Jesse; I _need_ to be around him. I know that as strongly as I know the sky is blue and I'm a mediator.

"Yes." I said that one word with such conviction it made Jesse laugh unexpectedly. I could easily get used to that sound I decided while I laughed with him.

"Good, that's good," he muttered as he stood up, his hand running through his hair in a way that made me jealous. "It's getting late, we should leave. Do you need a ride home?" he offered, his hand held out to signal for me to leave ahead of him. A little stiff from sitting on the stone I tried not to stumble my way over the graves as a thrill shot threw me at the idea of having just a little extra time with him. It made up for the disappointment I felt the moment he said we should leave.

"Sure, that'd be great," I smiled over my shoulder as I led the way out of the graveyard and past the Basilica. I let him lead me over to his car, barely taking in its colour, let alone the model. I felt jittery and highly alert as I made myself comfortable in the passenger seat, rambling off the directions to my house. The ride there wasn't too fast and it didn't drag. We didn't say a word to each other, the silence only broken by our breathing. But it was comfortable and relaxed. I didn't expect any kind of moves to be made and I didn't question whether getting in to a car with a total stranger was a good idea or not. Not once did I feel like Jesse could be a threat to me.

Never.

But my house came up all too soon and I found myself just staring at it through my window, sighing heavily because I knew I'd have to leave the car now. Have to walk away from Jesse. And just like when I saw him at the Historical Society, it made my stomach erupt with the contradictory butterflies and panic.

Clearing his throat again, his voice sounded strained and hoarse when he spoke. "Why don't I give you my cell number and you can get in touch with me about when to go and see Ethan," Jesse suggested, just able to make eye contact with me. Did he think he was putting the moves on me? Is that why he sounds so uncertain? Is he expecting me to freak out, call him a cad and run away from his car?

"Yeah, definitely," I said a little too quickly, my words rushed and a little high-pitched. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, my fingers trembling a little. _What the hell is wrong with me_?! I swiped it open and shakily tapped in his number before saving it. And there it was, blazing brightly in my phone. Jesse's number, my lifeline to what could easily become an addiction. "Take mine too, just in case I forget," I rushed out again, even though that was a blatant lie, there's no way I would forget. But the thought of Jesse not being able to get in touch with me, that I'm the only one with the power of contact was terrifying and for some reason I wanted an even playing field.

Another Suze would have been buzzing at having that kind of power given to her from a guy as hot as Jesse.

The surprise that flashed across his face lasted seconds before it was replaced with relief. I rattled off my number back and watched him lock his own phone, suddenly nothing left to be said or done. _Just get out of the car, Suze_, I told myself. _Just move_. But I felt stuck, sitting there in the darkness of his car, terrified to leave him for some reason. It was my hand unconsciously making contact with his that snapped me out of that fear as the shock of electricity raced up my arm and down through my body, ending in my toes curling in my kick-ass boots. I never make physical contact with people unless I really have to. But there I was, actively reaching for him!

I mumbled, "Thankyouforthelifthome," before all but falling out of his car and racing up the gravel driveway, unable to look back. If I did I knew I'd find him sitting there, staring after me. And then I'd just turn back around and race back to his car and kiss him. Kiss a guy I've met twice, spoken to for less than an hour in total and feel something crazy for.

I should get a goddamn medal for my restraint though.

Because in-stead I walked into my house on auto-pilot, slipped into my room and fell on my bed, my whole body shaking as silent tears ran down my face. I lifted a trembling hand to my face and stared at it in shock when I saw it come away wet. My chest felt like it does when I wake from that recurring nightmare, the pain making me fall back on to the covers, my eyes squeezing shut against the twisting.

My last thought was of Jesse as I fell into a fitful sleep, and the feel of his warm hand beneath mine. Wondering why I expected it to be cold . . .


	6. Chapter Five

_**A/N:**_ I'm sorry it's taken this long for an update! Time as always got away from me and then this chapter has been nothing but a pain in the ass from start to finish. If I don't post this now then I'll end up scraping the whole chapter and scream with frustration while I don't touch it again for a few months. So here you go! Massive apologies for any mistakes and the choppiness of it (I really struggled). But I hope everyone has had a great Christmas and an amazing start to 2016! :) Reviews are love.

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"**_I know all about time and wounds healing, but even if I had all the time in the world, I still don't know what to do with all this hurt right now_**." Nina Guilbeau

**_Chapter Five_**

When I woke up the next morning it was because I was uncomfortable. Falling asleep on top of my covers still with my boots on had left me overheating and stiff. My cheeks were sticky from my tears, some hair painfully stuck to them. I lifted myself up with a groan trying to remember my dream but the more I strained for it the more I forgot it. I rubbed at my gritty eyes, the old mascara crumbling to the bed while my mind slowly and fuzzily woke up. What happened again last night?

The graveyard . . . the pacing . . . the stranger . . .

"_Jesse_!" I cried suddenly, my eyes wide and frantic while I felt around for the phone Paul brought me on the bed, my heart racing in hopes that when I looked at it there is a message from Jesse waiting there. But when I finally managed to press the button there was nothing. Just like a pin popping a balloon I deflated back to the bed with another groan, angry at myself for being naive and stupid enough to think there would be something from him. Not because I think he's not going to be in touch, but because I want him to so badly. If Paul made me react like this I wouldn't have to remind myself he exists every few hours.

I looked at the time, wondering if maybe Gina was skipping school today or deciding to be a good student so I could call her. I missed my best friend, one of the only people ever to get me to talk and just understand me for who I am, not asking for anything from me. I put the thought away for later, determined to talk to her at some point this week.

Sleep was a no go so I spent the next hour doing everything I could to not continuously check my phone. Showered, primped, and checked myself out in the mirror, trying to figure out who the stranger is staring back. Doing what I could to hide the dark circles under my eyes. Eventually, after deciding I need some serious beach days again to zap away my zombie appearance I went back into my room, grabbing my phone along the way. Still no text.

Is this what Kelly and Debbie do when they give their number out to an insanely hot guy; pine over their phone? Because that's not me. I swear Paul never has me like this. Not even in the beginning when the start of a relationship is supposed to be exciting and new. With him it's mostly fumbling hands, kissing and half answers to questions I'm still waiting for.

With Jesse . . . well with him _everything_ is different.

_I'm_ different.

Sitting down on my window seat I pushed the window open despite the cold foggy morning I'm so used to now. This is when Gina would have been useful, telling me what to do. What would she do? My best friend would text him first, not waiting around for him to make the first move - even if this _is_ about mediator business - and just go for it; especially if she likes them. Gina doesn't know the phrase beat around the bush. Neither do I normally, I'm the girl without the filter that just barrels into danger because I don't know or feel any different. So why am I suddenly turning in to this girl I'm not?

"To hell with it," I muttered as I heard the familiar thump on the porch roof outside my window. Seconds later Spike, my ugly adopted fat ginger cat stumbled through the window for the first time in days and glared at me. Ignoring him for a second - thanking the ghost kid _again_ for my new 'pet' - and opened a new text to Jesse. Spike growled as my thumbs flew across the screen in record time. I glanced at the text once and sent it. I don't believe in agonizing over messages either.

"Alright grumpy, let's go," I sighed tiredly, putting my phone down and feeding Spike who took two swipes at me with his talons and then chowed down like he hasn't eaten in days. Judging by the fat belly touching the floor though I'd say he's been fine. The ghost kid really hadn't left me much choice in taking Spike on. He's so ugly no one would take him; this arrangement just about works for the both of us. I feed him; he doesn't sleep on my bed. Mediators gotta do what Mediators gotta do.

Like Anna and her boyfriend Ethan.

I sighed again already feeling just how long this day is going to be. I mean sure, I might not _normally_ be in tune with my emotions, but my intuition is pretty good. And this time it's telling me that waiting around isn't going to make that problem go away. Of course her begging and pleading kind of makes me want to get a move on anyway _and_ it's the perfect reason to see Jesse, to get to know this guy who has me so twisted in knots. But below all of that, when I really feel for it, I can just tell time isn't on our side.

That's where Doc found me not long later, staring out of my window and trying to figure out what to do next about lots of things.

"Morning Suze, we're - oh, you're ready?" Doc's normally gentle smile he gives me - because he knows sometimes I'm not the friendliest person in the morning - faltered when he saw me. I must look worse than I thought. "Why are you up so early?" he questioned, the tips of his ears and cheeks turning an interesting shade of red when I pierced him with a look. Not a mean one, but probably more intense than normal.

"Couldn't sleep," I muttered, grabbing my jacket and throwing my bag over my shoulder. But before I followed my red curly haired step-brother out of my room I turned around and grabbed my phone from the cushions. Doc waited for me to join him and then trotted down the stairs beside me, like a little shadow.

"Is it because of school? Are you stressed about being a senior? Do you have problems with Paul? Because I - "

"You know I'm good for today's lesson on what percentage of teenagers feel stressed and why," I interrupted him, resisting running a hand across my eyes in exhaustion and frustration, clutching my phone a little tighter instead. I saw Doc's face redden again, the color almost exactly matching his hair. Sighing, I felt another stab of guilt for dismissing him, just like nearly everyone else does. He looks up to me so much and I manage to totally stomp over that respect sometimes. "I'm sorry." I simply said.

"That's OK," he beamed back at me, waving the moment off. "But I was just going to say if you need someone to talk to, err, maybe that I'm a good listener too."

I stopped in the middle of our living room and just staring at my kid step-brother. Over the last few months I've watched him transform into an even more awkward teenager than he was when I first arrived. But I'm starting to see the man he's going to become. He's grown taller, his ears don't seem to stick out as much as they did, he doesn't give me anywhere near as many facts about random things as he used to. But looking at him I realized that maybe _he_ might need someone to talk to about stuff sometimes too.

"Thanks David, same goes to you." I smiled, squeezing his shoulder once before moving on. The shimmer in his eyes was making me uncomfortable.

In fact this whole new wave of emotion I'm not used to is making me uncomfortable. Being jaded was easier.

"Move it, I've gotta get to school!" Dopey yelled at me as he shoved past me out of the kitchen, his face stuck in a permanent scowl. I swung around to tell him to wait for Doc but he was already flipping me the bird. "You'll have to get your precious boyfriend to drive him, I'm not waiting around." And he disappeared.

I looked at Doc to see his face morph into slight panic before it went blank, his body shifting from one foot to another. "I think he has an assignment due first thing and he hasn't finished it." he answered for me, not that I asked. "Um, I can ask a friends mom to give me a lift to school, don't worry."

"No problem you can come with me and Paul," I shrugged grabbing the first banana I touched on the kitchen island and went back through the house to wait out the front for him. Doc mumbled something about not wanting to be a bother as he followed me dragging his heels. "You're not, you're my brother." I surprised us both by saying. For the third time that morning I saw Doc's face light up and stomped down hard on the urge to roll my eyes at his happiness.

Call me a bitch but I just didn't have the patience to talk to Doc about something ethically or morally wrong right then while we waited, so I opened my phone instead ready to text Gina. Anything to make it look like I was too distracted to talk, because I'm such a _fantastic_ big sister.

I guess as much as I hoped to hear from Jesse, I still wasn't prepared for it. Seeing a reply from him made my feet stumble as I stepped from the porch and my heart raced inside my chest again. I've heard people say they physically feel their heart do some kind of weird fluttery thing but I've never experienced it myself up until yesterday. But there it was again at just the sight of his name on my phone; that invisible connection pulling tight again.

"Are you OK, Suze?" Doc asked me, peering at me behind his glasses when I came to an ungraceful stop.

I nodded absently too busy shakily opening the phone. If someone could just explain to me _why_ I have such a strong reaction to a guy I don't know, have barely seen, then that would be just _great_. Because it was starting to frighten me and I don't get scared easily . . . or at all.

'_Good morning, Susannah. You're welcome for the lift last night, it was my pleasure. Yes I am available to go and see Ethan, would you like me to pick you up from school?_'

I read the text again and again, memorizing it within seconds, soaking in every single word on the screen as I practically lifted it to my face to look at it. There wasn't any kisses, no smiley faces - not that I'd expected anything like that. But even through a text it felt welcoming and sweet and I felt my body tingle and warm just from reading it. Smiling - another past time I rarely do - I was just about to punch in a reply when I heard Paul's sporty car come racing up the hill. Something else instantly took away the warm glowy feeling Jesse had given me as I locked my phone and shoved it in my pocket, wiping my face of the smile.

"David's coming with us today, Brad left him behind." I told Paul as I climbed in, not giving him an option. Doc's my family, whether I chose it or not. That gives me big sister power to bend my boyfriend to what I want, even if I can be a bitch of a sister. Paul cocked an eyebrow at me but otherwise never said anything about it. David slid in the back quietly, not making a peep.

"Morning, David," Paul acknowledged before turning to me and cupping my face with his hand. "Good morning, beautiful. I've missed you," he crooned his usual line as he leaned forward and pulled me in for a kiss. In the last second I turned my head so he got the cheek, no way am I making out with him with David in the car too, talk about gross. It didn't by-pass me he said almost the same thing as Jesse, only the massive difference is how it made me react. My hand unconsciously went to my pocket to feel for my phone.

Frowning at being given the cheek move Paul glanced in the back at Doc and his frown went from moody to something darker. Sitting back in his seat in a huff he roared away from my house, barely giving me time to put my seat belt on.

"Speeding much, Paul?" I commented, not because I'm bothered by his speed, I don't have much sense of danger like I've said. But because I could hear the little sounds of nervousness from Doc in the back and I knew he hated it when Dopey goes too fast. When I glanced at him I could see his face still set with that anger from before. This isn't the first time he's pulled some stupid moody stunt because he can't get his own way; he's a pro at guilt tripping. But I learned fast that sometimes the quickest way to snap him out of it is to give him a little attention.

So I went against what I like and reached out to place a hand on his knee, squeezing it gently once but otherwise keeping it there.

Almost instantly his foot eased off the accelerator and his face lost that frown. He smiled, resting a hand on top of mine so I couldn't move it. The ride to school was silent otherwise, Paul never made the effort to talk to Doc and I never tried to talk to Paul. I'm aware my family don't really like Paul, but I hadn't stopped to think he might not like them either. I realized it when he treated my step-brother like he wasn't even in the car with us, didn't even say anything when Doc thanked him for the ride.

The second I had a chance I pulled my hand away from his knee and got out of the car.

"So you're coming over tonight," Paul told me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walked into school together. "I'm ordering us pizza, we haven't had any quality time together in ages." he murmured into my ear as he gently kissed it, whispering things that made me want to rip away from him. Instead I stayed where I was, looking straight ahead and holding my phone through my pocket again.

"I can't tonight; I've got some errands to run and homework to finish. Besides you know Andy insists on having us all there for dinner, he's not going to like it if I tell him I'm binning off his gourmet food for pizza. Maybe another time, I've got to get to class." I pecked him quickly on the cheek and moved out of his arm, suddenly feeling desperate to get away from him. It felt like someone had suddenly placed chains around my neck, weighing me down I had to get away.

Except I didn't.

"Hold on," Paul suddenly grabbed a hold of my wrist and yanked me back to him making me stumble. I saw a few people out of the corner of my eye watching us but couldn't tear my eyes away from Paul's livid blue gaze. "What the hell's going on, Suze? We've barely seen each other recently, doesn't that bother you?"

I opened my mouth to say no, but realized with a sudden burst of clarity that it would be the way wrong thing to say to him right then. Paul was pissed and I was the reason why. The grip on my wrist wasn't getting any lighter either. "Yes," I lied. "But I can't help having things to do and you know how Andy can be. Another time, OK?" I wasn't going to suddenly lie down and roll over for him, but I didn't want him mad at me either. Why has he got to be so possessive sometimes? Gina's never had this with any of her boyfriends. "Let go of my arm." I pulled back a little.

Like a switch being flicked all the anger and seething in Paul's eyes and expression just disappeared. There and then gone, just like that. If my wrist wasn't throbbing I'd have questioned if I saw it or not. Has that ever happened before and I just haven't noticed? He loosened his grip on my wrist and rubbed the sore area with his thumb as though he hadn't just gone all Neanderthal on me out of nowhere.

Cupping my cheek with his hand again Paul looked at me with so much love and adoration I wanted to throw up in my mouth. I swallowed automatically, clutching my phone again, desperate for that connection on it. "I'm sorry Suze; I just hate not seeing you now we're back at school. It drives me crazy I want you so much," Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to my lips that on anyone else would have been sweet and coercing. Before yesterday it worked on me a little too. But today it just made me feel wrong and disgusting.

Maybe it's _me_ that's wrong and disgusting, feeling like this being kissed by a hot guy who loves me.

Once Paul pulled away I breathed again. "I'll see you at lunch. Love you, beautiful," he smiled his perfectly straight white teeth at me, letting me go and walking away. I looked down at my wrist and suddenly something in me just _snapped_ as I yanked my phone back out of my pocket to reply to Jesse.

'_No, I'll meet you somewhere else, maybe the Historical Society - 3pm_?'

I hit send and put my phone away; when I looked up no-one was looking at me but I felt like I was under a microscope anyway. I glanced at my wrist again. I felt like I was outside of my body watching myself. Paul had done that. Why did I let him do that? Why didn't I punch him or tell him to go to hell. I never thought I'd let someone treat me like that. I know he can be possessive but that . . . what even _was_ that?!

"Coming to homeroom, Suze?!" Cee Cee called out to me from where she was standing under the breezeway. I saw her violet eyes watching me carefully as I walked towards her, the journalist in her not missing a beat. But she didn't question me on it though I could tell she wanted to. It's no secret with Cee Cee and Adam that they don't like Paul. Seems like I'm the only person who does around here, maybe with the exception of Kelly Prescott and the other fan girls.

I spent most of the school day trying to figure everything out, break it down into easy to digest bites and go from there. First was Paul's reaction. Maybe it is because I haven't been spending as much time with him. Mom and Andy have pulled the leash a little tighter so I don't stay out as late. Not that it'd stop me if I really wanted to go out. And I can't blame it on Jesse, though thinking about him compared to Paul doesn't exactly make me want to run into my boyfriends arms either.

No, the solution to that is giving Paul what he wants. Be the doting girlfriend I'm supposed to be while helping Anna and Ethan with their problem - in secret.

And Jesse . . . The thought of not seeing him made me feel panicked. Like to the point where I suddenly struggled to breathe again. I don't know who he is and what he's done to me, but whatever it was it's changed me. There's this thing between us I don't understand, but I want to figure it out. I need to. The confusion will go away, I just need to rein in how he makes me feel and I'll be fine. Eventually I'll get over the shock I feel every time I see him, right?

By the time school let out I felt a little bit clearer headed. I even tried to kiss Paul goodbye without flinching, to try and feel something between us as I ran my hand through his hair. I guess it's a work in progress.

I secured a ride to the Historical Society with Adam, making up some excuse about leaving something behind there the day before. Walking inside I instantly looked around for Jesse but couldn't see him. I was little early so I walked over to some of the artefacts they had on show, not really taking any of it in. But that's where he found me, staring at a portrait of an attractive young woman with dark ringlet curls in an expensive looking dress, a large jewel hanging around her neck.

I felt him before I saw him, like my whole body responded to his presence.

"Hey," I breathed staring at his reflection in the glass beside me. Taking in a quiet breath I turned to look at him. "How are you?"

The smile Jesse gave me literally made me feel like my knees were going to give out, it went all the way to his eyes. I unconsciously reached out a hand to brace myself against the display case. "I'm OK, how are you?" he answered, his smile dimming a little as he traced his eyes over me. Probably seeing the bags under my eyes no concealer can cover. He made me want to be honest, tell him I'm tired, confused, frustrated. I wanted to hold on to him somehow and ask him to tell me what's happening and what to do.

But I've never asked someone for help in my life and I wasn't about to start now; even if he looked like that's what he wanted me to do too. I opened my mouth to ask why I can read him so easily, but snapped it shut again and gave a false smile. Just add it to the list of other weird things between us.

"I'm ready to go and see Ethan," I told him instead, evading his question and biting down on all of mine.

He looked away from me once, looking at the same portrait I'd been staring at before swinging his warm dark gaze back to me. "OK then, let's go."

He gestured for me to go first and I did my best to not watch every step I took in case I tripped on invisible air. I've never been so hyper-sensitive to another person, never been near a good looking guy before and suddenly watched what I said, how I acted or how I walked. But I did all of that with Jesse, the exception being that I felt like I couldn't hide anything from him.

Being the gentleman that he is he held my door open for me and let me slip into his car first, the act not taking me by surprise, like I'd expected him to do that. Just like the car ride from last night we didn't fill the silence with meaningless words and chit chat. I just wound my window down and let the breeze wash over my face as I relaxed back into my seat. It wasn't until Jesse called my name that I realized I'd been so relaxed for the first time all day that I'd almost fallen asleep.

"Have you seen Anna since yesterday?" Jesse asked me as he drove, not taking his eyes from the road.

"No. She hasn't given much to go on either other than her boyfriend blames himself and its tearing him up," And how many times have I heard that from a ghost? I'm not saying he isn't cut up, _she_ definitely is, I feel horrible whenever she comes around crying because it's so raw and hard to watch. She insists he's in so much pain, but how much of that is her projecting on to him because she's dead? Is she the reason I don't feel like we have enough time? I don't want to say she might do something that makes Ethan join her, but that wouldn't be the first time I've come across a ghost try that either.

"I've never seen pain like what she's in before," Jesse muttered, seeming to echo my thoughts.

I took the opportunity to study him, trace my eyes over the contours of his face, across his dark wavy hair. To admire the strength to his arms, the twitching of his muscles as he tightened and loosened his grip on the steering wheel. I wanted to memorize what he looked like, imprint it on my memory with a branding iron so I'd never forget. I couldn't look away, I didn't even care if it freaked him out, since first seeing him all I've felt is like someone has thrown a bucket of ice water over me and I can't shake the shocked feeling. Does he struggle with that as much as me?

When he glanced at me, the corners of his mouth turned up a little, my eyes were drawn to the scar through his dark eyebrow. "How did you get that?" I asked, my hand almost rising to move a finger across it. Minimal contact with Jesse is best for now.

He raised a hand to automatically feel for the scar before dropping it. "It's a birth mark, I was born with it," he answered, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal. But it was important to me and I don't know why.

Vaguely satisfied I turned back around to relax back into my seat again, resisting the urge to look at him. Something about being around Jesse automatically puts me at ease. We didn't drive for too much longer before he pulled up to the curb in front of a two story house in a quiet neighborhood. We both peered through the window trying to see signs of movement, but it all looked quiet and empty.

I followed Jesse up the uneven pathway looking around us when my spidey senses started tingling. Maybe Anna was nearby watching us and that was what I could feel.

Jesse wrapped his knuckles against the solid door a few times and we waited to hear sounds of someone approaching but after a while there wasn't anything. We looked at each other, a silent conversation seeming to pass between us about what to do next. But then the door swung open revealing no one from the other side. Guessing Anna was flexing her ghostly powers I stepped into the small foyer of the house, listening out for the sounds of anyone.

"Ethan's here alone, he's upstairs in his room," Anna quivered, appearing before us. "I'll take you."

The feel of Jesse's hand on my back lightly encouraging me to follow the small emotional ghost up the stairs got my feet moving. I resisted turning around to see him follow me and just let her lead us to her boyfriend. I knocked on his closed bedroom door lightly, not about to barge into a teenage boys room, especially one who thought he was alone in the house. "Ethan, are you there?" I called out, knocking again.

I heard shuffling from behind the door and stepped back to stand beside Jesse, closer than before.

When the door opened though I wasn't expecting what I saw. OK, so I don't really know _what_ I was expecting, but I guess this wasn't it. If I could have taken what clearly used to be an athletic, tall broad guy and zap all the life and energy out of him, then Ethan would have been the result. He looked worse than any person I've come across grieving in my time as a mediator. And that's saying a lot. I sucked in a breath recoiling back a little from him. Jesse automatically grabbed my hand, steadying me and I sucked in a breath for a whole different reason. But I still couldn't pull my eyes away from the boy in front of me. He looked so - so deathly.

His cheeks were grey and gaunt, stubble making him look so much older than he is. His hair hung limp and scraggly in his eyes, the clothes hanging off his frame. I thought I had dark circles under my eyes, they were nothing compared to this guys. But it was his eyes that made me want to look away; they were devoid of anything, no emotion, no spark. If Anna was the verbal apparition of pain with her tears, then Ethan was the physical embodiment of it.

I took back everything I thought in the car because this . . . this was more and I was so unprepared for it.

How does anyone survive the kind of agony I could see in his eyes?

"Ethan?" Jesse asked him quietly, snapping me out of my horror. "Hello, I'm Jesse and this is Susannah. We're friends of Anna's," The mention of her name seemed to get a reaction out of him, his eyes widened a little, a spark of something coming to them. He still continued to look between us, totally unfazed by the fact he had two strangers in his house. "Why don't we go downstairs and talk?" Jesse suggested. He said it in a way that wasn't forceful, but made you want to go along with it any-way, like you didn't even have to question it.

Ethan shrugged his broad shoulder. "Sure," he rasped, stepping out of his room and leading the way. Anna stuck by his side the whole time, watching him with tears in her eyes. "He's hurting so much. I've always been able to feel him, even if we weren't close. But now I'm . . . now I'm dead it's a hundred times worse." she whispered.

I had to look away from both of them, the way she was looking at him with so much love, compassion and fear I could feel my throat closing at the unfamiliar feeling of tears. Does Paul look at me like that? I hope not, I shuddered. I don't want to be stared at like that, not from him.

When we got to his modest open plan kitchen I took a seat at the island with Ethan while Jesse got us all a drink, as though it's nothing to just help your-self to someone's stuff. I couldn't help but watch him, the way he moved so confident and comfortable in his own skin; so in charge of the space around him. It made me relax having him there, seeing him push the glass of water across the counter to Ethan before sitting down next to me.

"You said you were friends of Anna's?" he rasped again, raising his eyes to watch us. If I looked really closely, enough that I didn't want to shrink away from him, I could see that there's still some life left in him. Somehow we just needed to reach out to him and find a way of pulling him back. "How did you know her? I've never seen you both before."

"Just from around," I lamely answered. Anna hadn't taken her eyes from him, but he shivered when she laid a hand over his.

He nodded as though that answer was enough.

"Ethan," Jesse started, leaning forward so his bare forearms were leaning against the counter. I tried not to look at them and focused on Ethan instead – though they stayed in my peripheral vision the whole time. "You know Anna wouldn't want to see you like this," That made tears silently roll down her face as she watched her boyfriend not say a word. "She would want to see you heal and remember her, not suffer like you are."

His eyes moved from Jesse to me and back again. "I must've heard something like that every day since the accident," he started, no emotion to his voice at all.

"Are you two together?" he asked, barely flicking a hand between Jesse and me. We looked at each other in surprise, our eyes locked in a hold I was powerless to break out of. Who am I kidding; I didn't want to look away! I wanted to stay there looking into his dark eyes and imagine myself as his girlfriend. Imagine what it would be like to be loved by him, kissed, and taken care of. I've never wanted that before, I've never wanted someone to just give me a hug, stroke my hair or look at me the way Anna looked at Ethan. But now, looking into his eyes after we were asked if we're together ignited something I never knew I wanted before.

Jesse broke our connection first; his eyes flickering away once before settling back on me for another quick glance. Eventually he turned back to Ethan who'd been watching us and shook his head, not saying anything else. After what he probably just saw I wasn't surprised when he gave me us a, '_You're bullshitting me, right?_' look.

"Huh," he just said in-stead. "Well have you ever been in love?" I opened my mouth to say yes, Paul coming to mind. But then I closed it because that was wrong, I'm not in love with Paul, not even close. I glanced at Jesse because I just couldn't help myself, but he wasn't looking back.

Jesse other than tensing up at the question shook his head and relief selfishly flooded through me.

"Then you don't understand and you never will." Ethan simply said, pushing his glass away from him.

"Explain it to us," Jesse requested, his shoulders relaxing again.

This time the look we were given wasn't one that said how stupid we were for even asking, but was filled with something that made me quickly wonder if I'm as fearless as I thought I was, because I was suddenly terrified at what he was going to say. I wanted to get up and leave the guys to talk, but I had that heavy chain around my neck feeling again and I couldn't move. I had the most overwhelming feeling that I wasn't going to like what he was about to say. I wanted to look away from his torment. With my heart starting to race as I realized with a bolt of clarity that maybe there's a chance we might not be able to help him at all. How are we supposed to make this better?

What he said next just proved that.

"Anna is - Anna was my _everything_. My best friend, my other half, the person I was supposed to grow old with. The girl I had planned a life with in every detail you could think of. The one I'm supposed to love in every life I have. When I wasn't with her I missed her, like it physically hurt me to be apart from her. When we were together I felt like I could breathe again because she was my lifeline. We knew what each other was thinking without saying anything. She cried, I cried with her. She laughed and I did too. There was nothing, _nothing_ I wouldn't have done for her. I would have torn the world apart if someone hurt her in anyway.

When I woke up and they told me she was gone, that all of that was never going to be again I - I was broken. I am _nothing_ without her. What is my life now without her in it? How am I supposed to wake up every day knowing I won't get to see her face again, won't get to hear her laugh or hold her again. You want to know what Hell is like? This is it. It's the seconds after I've woken up and I suddenly remember it all again. It's seeing her imprint everywhere, in everything and not being able to touch her, to see her.

It's being terrified that with every day she's gone my memory won't be enough.

It hurts to breathe, it hurts to _live_. I'd feel less pain if someone slowly ripped my heart from my chest. The agony of not having her here - there aren't enough words to describe it. I'm nothing without her, I'm dead. There is nothing left. So please, go ahead and tell me she'd want me to go on. You think I don't know that? Do you think that suddenly takes all of this away from me? Lose the person you _know_ you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with, the person you were _destined_ to be with for forever and then come back and tell me I need to heal."

No one said another word as Ethan pushed away from the kitchen island and walked out of the room, his shoulders so slumped it was a wonder he wasn't just flat on the floor under the weight of them. Even Anna just sat in silent misery. I couldn't bear to follow him with my eyes once he left, I just stood up from my own stool, the sound scraping across the tiled floor as I rushed out of the kitchen and through the front door. I didn't stop running until I got to Jesse's car, my hands braced on the roof to steady me.

What the hell just happened in there?

"Susannah," I heard Jesse call from behind me, but I couldn't turn around to look at him. "_Susannah_," I heard him say again before he gently took my shaking shoulders in his hands and turned me towards him. I still didn't look up but let him pull me close and wrap his arms around me.

I've hugged before, usually only my mom by choice, most other people know not to bother trying it with me. Sometimes I offer an awkward comforting pat on the back. But with Jesse I just fell against him. I leaned on that hard chest of his and closed my eyes, trying to erase what Ethan said. His arms were so strong around me, holding me impossibly close. I could feel his heartbeat under my cheek. Hearing it just made the stinging behind my eyes even sharper so I squeezed them tighter, trying hard to not lose it anymore than I already had.

I just wanted to hide there for as long as I could.

"Susannah," Jesse soothed, his hand rubbing up and down my back, easing the tension out of me. I reluctantly pulled away enough to look up at him, blinking past the blurriness to my eyes. "You're crying," he frowned, the concern in his raspy voice sharp. His hand cupped my cheek while his thumb wiped a tear away.

"No I'm not," I instantly denied, letting him go and scrubbing at my cheeks with my palms. When I pulled my hand away he was right, they were wet. "_I never cry_," I said in disbelief, staring at the shaking of my hands. But it's just everything Ethan said, what he described . . . it sounded just like how I feel when I wake from my nightmare; the complete and total pain of a lost love.

How are we supposed to help him when we can barely keep it together ourselves?

"It's OK, that was very traumatic for both of us," Jesse staggered, running a hand through his hair in a way that made my chest hurt with familiarity. "I think I underestimated him, I wasn't expecting this to be so difficult."

"Neither of us did," I tried to reassure him, though I'm clearly the lousiest person at doing that. "He loved her so much." I looked back to the house feeling like a failure of a mediator. How many times has Anna asked for our help when at the first hurdle we fail epically?

Jesse looked at me sadly like an open book, his face hiding nothing of how difficult he just found the whole Ethan experience. I was expecting Anna to be there on the side-walk with us, shouting and raving about not helping him. But looking at Jesse I could tell neither of us knew what to do next.

"Come on," he muttered, opening my door for me again so I could climb in. I did it on auto-pilot, not feeling as relaxed and secure as I was before. I asked where we were going when Jesse started the car and turned in the opposite direction to where we came from. "Somewhere to make us feel better." he told me. I didn't think that was possible or to question him beyond that. Instead I thought about how amazing it felt to be held by him, how perfect it was, despite what had just happened and how much of a crappy a girlfriend I am.

Suddenly all I wanted was to climb in to bed and sleep for years. How can my life change so much in just two days?

Glancing at Jesse though, I had my answer.


End file.
